Harry Potter and the Rise of the Dark Lord Year 6
by LongLiveHarry
Summary: Emotional narrative written (hopefully & humbly) in JKR style. Deals with the power of Harry's grief, friendships, strength, fear, and eventually - falling in love. In homage to JK Rowling and her awesome literary quill.
1. Home Unsweet Home

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**CHAPTER ONE - HOME UNSWEET HOME**

The dark-haired bespectacled form of Harry Potter lay silently on his small bed in his tiny bedroom at Privet Drive. He gazed numbly out his window at the darkening sky. Hedwig was still asleep in her cage, but she was beginning to wake, ruffling her feathers restlessly. Harry reached over automatically and opened her cage and then listlessly sat at his desk. He knew he should stop, but he could not seem to help himself as he pulled the photo album towards him. The heavy pages were still slightly dog-eared because of the number of times Harry had flicked through them. His fingers easily found the page he wanted, and he found himself once again gazing into the smiling young face of his godfather.

Sirius had been young and relatively carefree in the days surrounding James and Lily Potter's wedding. Sirius' laughing face showed no signs of his near or more distant dark future. The Sirius in the wedding photograph had no idea that in a few short years he would be in Azkaban, convicted of a crime he never committed or that shortly before his godson's sixteenth birthday that he would die senselessly while Harry watched helplessly, unable to stop it. As Harry continued staring into his godfather's face night fell around him. Harry did not even glance up from the picture as Hedwig flew past him out his window and into the night. "Stop torturing yourself," Harry muttered to himself, "it won't bring him back."

It had been a fourteen long dreary days since Harry had arrived at King's Cross Station and reluctantly got into Uncle Vernon's car to go back home. "Home" was the word Dumbledore had used when they had been in his office together at the end of last year. "While you can still call home the place where your mother's blood dwells, Harry, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort."

Harry could not have cared less about Voldemort at the moment, though. Harry tried to swallow away the horrible lump rising in his throat, but it still would not go away. He felt hollow, empty. The Harry that had existed before Sirius had died was gone now, changed forever. Harry's feelings had sunk so low that he could not seem to remember what happiness felt like or even if he had ever really been happy at all. Intellectually Harry knew that that was not really true, but he still could not stop the horrible gnawing pain in his heart.

Harry's thoughts were rudely interrupted by Uncle Vernon's bellowing voice, "HARRY POTTER!" Harry jumped. He quickly slammed his photo album shut and started to get up as he heard someone thumping up the stairs towards him. Someone knocked loudly on his bedroom door. Harry opened it looking inquiringly at Uncle Vernon standing in the carpeted hallway outside of his room.

This really was an unusual occurrence. Before Mad-Eye Moody's chat with Uncle Vernon, Harry's uncle would have never hesitated to barge right in and had even locked Harry in this very room. Uncle Vernon's face looked blotchy, possibly from coming up the stairs as quickly as he did. "Boy, _Mrs. Figg's _at the door," Uncle Vernon said accusingly. "She wants to see you."

"All right," said Harry, slightly surprised. Harry had learned only last summer that the lady who had babysat him his entire childhood while the Dursley's went out enjoying themselves was a member of his own magical world. Unbeknownst to the Dursley's, their neighbor Mrs. Figg was a squib. Mrs. Figg had not made her time with Harry very enjoyable so that the Dursley's would not be suspicious of her. Uncle Vernon certainly looked suspicious now, however.

"You're a bit old to need a ruddy sitter, boy," Uncle Vernon said, sarcastically. Obviously Uncle Vernon wanted to know why Mrs. Figg would want to call on Harry, but then his blotchy face changed expression suddenly as though he was remembering something unpleasant. "Well, go ahead then, boy. I guess I _can't _stop you," Uncle Vernon said, his voice getting quieter but angrier as he went. Uncle Vernon always hated to give Harry his way on anything, but Moody's threat and horrible visage were still apparently quite fresh in his mind.

Harry shrugged and walked slowly past his uncle. The Dursley's didn't know about Sirius' death and Harry wasn't really able to tell them even if he wanted to. Harry tried to drag his mind away from his godfather as he got to the front door. Upon reaching it, Harry noticed that Mrs. Figg was standing there in her tartan house slippers looking very nervous and quite as batty as she always did. "Harry," Mrs. Figg cried without preamble, "Can you come with me?"

"Okay," Harry mumbled, before she grabbed his shoulder in one of her bony hands. Mrs. Figg marched Harry up the walk and stopped behind a nearby clump of bushes. As she did, she seemed to be looking everywhere as if expecting something terrible to happen. Harry now began to look around cautiously, as well. To Harry's surprise Remus Lupin appeared on the other side of the bushes, ducking carefully as if not wanting to be seen.

"Harry," Lupin whispered, as his young but wrinkled face looked at him sideways, "Are you doing okay?"

"I'm okay," Harry said, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, we're staying cautious with our communications and Dumbledore wanted one of us to check on you in person," Lupin whispered in a rush.

"Has anything happened?" Harry asked quickly, wondering if Voldemort was up to something or if he was possibly being followed by one of the Order again without being told about it. Harry felt a bit paranoid. He had not really been paying attention to the outside world since June. Harry had not even gotten a subscription started again for the _Daily Prophet_; he had just been too distracted.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself over, Harry. I won't say more here," Lupin said, looking around carefully just as Mrs. Figg had. "You look a little pale, Harry, are you sure you're feeling well?" Lupin asked, looking directly at Harry for the first time.

Harry looked askew at Lupin with his hands in his pockets. He really did not want to tell Lupin that he had barely left his bedroom since arriving on Privet Drive two weeks ago. Harry had felt too isolated and disconnected from everything and everyone since Sirius had died. Also, Harry had not wanted to spend any more time than was necessary in the Dursley's presence, especially since he always felt so completely miserable these days.

Lupin looked at Harry's sad pale face when he did not answer. He seemed able to read Harry easily, even though Harry had tried to disguise how horrible he really felt. "I think you've been here long enough, Harry," Lupin concluded.

"Are you here to take me with you?" Harry asked quietly, afraid he would say no.

Lupin seemed to be making up his mind. "Yes, Harry," he replied, after a moment's consideration. "Can you get your things?"

Harry glanced anxiously past the bushes at the front of Number 4, Privet Drive. Even in his current state of mind Harry knew that he'd rather be anywhere but here. "Just give me a second, and I'll be right out."

Harry ran back upstairs past his bewildered relatives. He pocketed his wand, quickly threw books, robes, cauldron, and broomstick into his trunk, grabbed Hedwig's cage and made his way across Aunt Petunia's gleaming kitchen and stuffy living room to the front door again. All three Dursley's watched Harry nervously as he crossed in front of them and reached the door.

"Just where do you think you're going, then!" yelled Uncle Vernon, turning purple.

"Back," Harry said simply, vaguely wondering if Uncle Vernon was about to try to accost him.

"Well, go then," Uncle Vernon sneered viciously.

None of the Dursley's were making any moves to stop Harry's progress, though Uncle Vernon looked livid. The fact that Harry was going to be able to come and go as he pleased, even if it was with his apparently hateful ex-babysitter, seemed to enrage his uncle. Aunt Petunia and Dudley did not seem angry, however, they seemed petrified. Since Harry had had to fight dementors off of Dudley and himself last summer, Aunt Petunia and Dudley had given Harry a very wide berth. It was almost as if they had finally realized that Harry really was a wizard, and was not bound by the same limitations that they were. If Harry had appeared more pale and melancholy than usual upon his arrival they had decided that that was no concern of theirs. They had never worried about Harry's happiness, anyway.

Aunt Petunia in particular had scrupulously avoided her nephew since his return. It was almost as though she thought she might let something slip, as she had last year when she had almost unwittingly mentioned that she knew about dementors. Aunt Petunia had apparently known about the evil soul-sucking prison guards of Azkaban for years. Harry had been quite astounded to find out that little scrap of information, and he sometimes wondered what else his aunt was hiding beneath her snobby Muggle pretenses.

Harry had only left his bedroom this summer when absolutely necessary, so seeing Harry in their living room now with his arms full of obviously magical items seemed to be almost more than the Dursley's could bear. Aunt Petunia grabbed Dudley's massive shoulders as if trying to protect him from the sight of the magical objects Harry was carrying. Anxious to leave, Harry did not bother to look back at them as he struggled getting his school things out the door.

Back behind the bushes, Mrs. Figg nervously cried, "Dear me, follow me back to my house, dear boy."

She looked rather fondly at Harry, but Mrs. Figg still appeared very flighty and frightened all the same. Harry glanced inquiringly at Lupin, but Lupin just shook his head discouragingly at Harry as he reached to help him with his trunk. Both Lupin and Mrs. Figg were very watchful of Harry as they crossed the two streets that led to Mrs. Figg's home. Upon reaching their destination, Lupin urged Harry inside the house hastily. As they opened the door, her many cats ran everywhere.

Mrs. Figg led the way to the large stone fireplace in her living room as Lupin and Harry caught up to her. Mrs. Figg then grabbed the small pot of floo powder on the mantel and began to hand it to Harry when she paused, "Harry, please take care of yourself ...." she said anxiously, a rather strange expression on her wizened face. Harry waited for her to say something else, but she looked away, peering anxiously out the window. Harry then turned to thank her instead, but Mrs. Figg just appeared even more flustered and agitated as she pushed the pot of floo powder into his hand insistently. "No, no - you must get going now, while it's safe!"

Harry was confounded by her behavior; it gave him a feeling of slight foreboding in the pit of his stomach. Harry did not have time for further contemplation, though, as Lupin grabbed him and said, "Go to headquarters, Harry." Somewhat distractedly, Harry took a pinch of floo powder, threw it in the fireplace now producing green flames and said, "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!"


	2. Turmoil and Test Results

**CHAPTER TWO - TURMOIL AND TEST RESULTS**

Before Harry could completely reorient himself from the spinning flames he was besieged by two very familiar voices. "HARRY!" Ron and Hermione yelled as they ran at him looking extremely pleased to see him. Hermione hugged Harry warmly then held him at arms-length looking at him critically as Ron smiled and said, "It's great to see you, mate...."

"Harry," Hermione interrupted, "are you quite all right? You look kind of peaky," she said sounding concerned and somewhat motherly, as Crookshanks rubbed against Harry's ankles.

"I'm better now, actually," Harry said, attempting to lift a convincing grin to his face. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, but apparently decided to let it drop.

"Hermione relax. He's back with us now," Ron stated soothingly. "Come back here, mate. Mum's been on pins and needles waiting for you to get back," Ron said, leading Harry to the dining room that also served as meeting room for the Order.

As they walked along the hallway, Harry thought something seemed different and then it hit him. Sirius' mother's portrait was gone, as were all the other screeching portraits of the Black family that had once lined the entire entryway. Kreacher the house-elf was nowhere to been seen, either. Harry felt a stab of hot anger at the very thought of him. Kreacher had purposefully lied about Sirius being at headquarters the night that he had died, and Harry was not really sure that he would be able to keep himself from doing something very destructive to the evil little house-elf if he ever saw him again. Harry quickly felt his anger melt away, however. He simply did not have the energy at the moment to fuel the emotion. Instead, Harry focused on the faded bare wall in front of him, touching the place where Mrs. Black's portrait had once been.

"How did you get them all down?" Harry asked. "I thought they had permanent-sticking charms on them."

"Well, Dumbledore and Hagrid managed after a couple of hours of repelling charms," Hermione said.

"That," Ron interjected, "and Hagrid reaching behind the frame and ripping it off the wall at the same time. That evil hag screamed the whole bloody time." Ron finished, grimacing.

As they walked through the kitchen doors to the dining room, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny ran up to them.

"Oh Harry dear, it's so wonderful to see you again," Mrs. Weasley gushed as she hugged Harry tightly. Mr. Weasley shook his hand and clapped him on the back while Ginny asked forthrightly, "Did the Muggles treat you right this summer, Harry?"

"Oh, it was a bit better, sure," Harry said evasively.

Harry felt suddenly awkward as he looked at all the concerned faces peering at him in the dim light. Harry appreciated everyone's kindness, but he had mostly avoided being around people since arriving on Privet Drive and he found himself longing to be alone again. Lupin had been behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione during this exchange and seemed to sense Harry's trepidation.

"Let's get your things up to your room, Harry," Lupin said firmly, steering Harry away from the others. When Ron and Hermione made to follow, Lupin diplomatically asked, "Could you two set the table and save Harry a seat? We'll be right back down."

"Oh .... of course," Hermione said hesitantly. Ron glanced at Harry but when Harry did not completely meet his eyes, Ron shrugged. "Sure," he said, and took Hermione's arm as he turned towards the silverware and plates.

Lupin led Harry to the same bedroom he and Ron had shared last summer and laid Harry's trunk at the foot of his bed. "I thought you might want a few minutes away from all the hustle and bustle," Lupin said, smiling gently at him.

"Thanks," Harry said, as he put Hedwig's empty cage on the nearby dresser.

"Look, Harry," Lupin began anxiously, "if you need to talk or anything...."

Harry glanced at Lupin. Lupin's robes were patched and frayed worse than ever and his face looked taut and tired, almost haunted. _"He looks like he's just lost his best friend," _Harry thought, without thinking. The hard lump rose sharply in Harry's throat again as he caught himself.

"Er ... thanks," Harry croaked rather gruffly, as he sat down on the bed and blinking, looked quickly away. Lupin had turned as though leaving, but then he came back crouching down in front of Harry and looking up at him. Harry met Lupin's eyes. He was shocked to see that they were brimming with unshed tears.

"I know better than anyone how you feel right now, Harry. I know how difficult it is to be in this house without him here ...." Lupin's voice broke. Lupin paused then, staring down at the floor. Suddenly he cleared his throat and stood up again heading for the door. As Lupin stopped at the threshold, he looked back at Harry painfully, his eyes slightly red. Lupin then took a deep breath and left, heading back downstairs.

Harry looked quickly around the room. Everything looked much as it did last summer. The blank canvas bearing the portrait of Phineas Nigellus appeared to be genuinely empty; Harry could not hear any snickering. The lump in his throat had now also turned into a burning behind his eyes and nose. Seeing the deep grief evident in Lupin's tired face had set off a chain reaction in his heart. Harry sat shaking, trying to stave off the horrible torrent of emotion that was now threatening to engulf him.

Harry got up attempting to distract himself by unpacking his trunk when his eyes alighted upon two items in quick succession. Somehow during his spinning journey here, Sirius' broken mirror had gotten shuffled next to the photo album of Harry's parents. The album had bounced open once again to reveal the wedding picture of Lily and James. Next to them as always was the young handsome Sirius, laughing joyfully in eternal but empty happiness.

Harry froze in misery, as his breath caught painfully in his throat. He then found himself on his hands and knees clutching the album and the mirror's remnants almost angrily in his shaking hands. His vision was blurred as the mirror slipped from Harry's grip. Why had this happened? Why hadn't he been able to see through Voldemort's deception? Why did Sirius have to die just when he needed him most.

Harry threw the photo album across the room as the tears slid uncontrollably down his cheeks. Harry could not stand to be here without Sirius. He somehow made it to his bed and sat rocking back and forth unable to keep himself from sobbing disconsolately, his anger dissolving into sorrow. Harry had felt so much terror on the night that Sirius had died, but still he had been unable to save him. All the misery, horror, and guilt he had tried to hold back broke through him as if it were an angry tide. Images from his life were flashing unceasingly through his mind; Dudley's stupid gang cruelly chasing him - his parents in the Mirror of Erised, unreachable - fearing _he_ might be the heir of Slytherin - fighting the Basilisk and Riddle - hearing his parents panicked cries as they tried unsuccessfully to protect him right before they were murdered - the icy cold terror as a hundred dementors charged towards him - Cedric's blank eyes as he lay dead upon the ground - the excruciating pain and humiliation of being tortured by Voldemort as the Death Eaters laughed at him in the graveyard - entering the Department of Mysteries to realize that he may have just led his friends to their doom for no reason at all, and then Sirius - Sirius dueling, then Sirius falling - slipping through that veil of black darkness, gone forever.

Time seemed to have stopped to Harry as the overwhelming despair seized him; he was not aware of anyone or anything else around him. Harry did not feel capable of handling this kind of intense emotional pain, it was simply too much. Sirius had been the closest thing Harry had had to a father, to family - but now Harry felt horribly alone. The torrential agony he had mostly tried to deny gave way completely to heartbreak. The sad pale form of a very grief-stricken Harry Potter now lay atop of the covers of his bed, releasing wave after wave of deep unyielding sadness. After a long time, thoroughly distraught and exhausted, Harry gratefully fell into a deep sleep.

A few moments after Harry's mind had finally drifted into a blissful slumber, two bedraggled forms appeared in the doorway. They had been on their way to see why he had not come down to dinner when they had heard Harry's anguished sobs through the door. They had grimly waited outside the room until Harry had fallen silent. Now as Ron and Hermione stood in the doorway, they looked at their sleeping friend in helpless dismay. They slowly turned towards one another. Hermione's eyes were full as she looked up into Ron's sad face. Ron hugged her to him and held her for a moment. Slowly, he gently released her as they separated and headed dejectedly to bed.

The next morning Harry woke to find a still sleeping Ron in the other bed. Hedwig was also now in her cage, Harry thought she must have arrived sometime after he had fallen asleep last night. Harry pushed his glasses onto his puffy face and left to go to the bathroom, hoping to go unnoticed. Once there, Harry got into the shower and let the warm jets of water wash over him. The horrible hollow ache in Harry's chest had subsided a little after last night. His mind now felt a bit clearer. Harry's mind drifted to the memory of Lupin's sorrow-filled face from the night before and Harry realized, really for the first time, that he was not alone in his grief. Now that he thought about it, Lupin's lot in life was certainly comparable to his own, being a werewolf was a never-ending struggle. Sadly, too, Lupin's best friends were now no longer with him. The first had died almost fifteen years before, the second betrayed him and everyone else, and the third had disappeared through the veil only weeks ago.

As Harry dried off to get dressed he tried to imagine what Lupin must be feeling right now. Harry wondered very briefly, _"what if I lost Ron and Hermione," _but he changed that train of thought quite quickly as this had brought the lump back to his throat and the stinging sensation back to his eyes. Harry's paused painfully, the thought was simply too unbearable. Harry threw cold water on his face as he abruptly dismissed it. "Get a hold of yourself," he told himself sternly, as he left the bathroom.

By the time Harry got to the kitchen everyone was already up. Harry encountered Lupin first. Lupin gave him a slight smile, which Harry was careful to return. A sort of unspoken understanding had sprung up between them. As Harry looked around, he was surprised at who he saw. "Professor Dumbledore," Harry blurted. Harry had not forgotten how Dumbledore had avoided him all year last year, even looking away from Harry if they were in the same room together. Dumbledore was looking at Harry now, however, his calm blue eyes focusing directly on Harry's bright green ones.

"Good morning, Harry," Dumbledore said serenely, as if the last year had not happened at all.

"Er ... morning, sir," Harry said slowly.

Dumbledore gave Harry an appraising look as he continued. "I come with tidings I'm sure you, Ron, and Hermione will want." Dumbledore carefully reached inside his robes and pulled out three small rolls of parchment, each bearing the Hogwart's coat of arms. Harry went to sit down by Ron and Hermione who had saved a seat for him at the table.

Mrs. Weasley passed a flagon of pumpkin juice down the table as Dumbledore handed Harry, Ron, and Hermione each a roll of parchment. "Well, open them then," Mrs. Weasley said smiling, "maybe it's good news." Harry tapped his wand on the sealed parchment to open it as Ron and Hermione did the same. What he saw made his heart beat more quickly.

_Dear Mr. Potter, _

_This notice is to inform you of the results of your Ordinary Wizarding Level tests you took last June. Thank you for your participation._

_You have received passing grades in the following subjects:_

_Astronomy_

_Care of Magical Creatures_

_Charms_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts_

_Herbology_

_Potions_

_Transfiguration_

_This includes OUTSTANDING O.W.L.s in:_

_Care of Magical Creatures_

_Defense Against the Dark Arts_

_Herbology_

_Transfiguration_

_You failed to pass the following classes listed below:_

_Divination_

_History of Magic_

_Congratulations on your completion of your O.W.L.s. See you next term._

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva M. McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Harry looked up to see Ron and Hermione's beaming faces. Hermione had received "Outstanding" in all of her written theory and practical O.W.L.s, just as Harry knew she would. Ron was also quite excited. He had actually managed to get more passing grades than Harry did for his O.W.L.s. - they had both failed Divination - but Harry was unperturbed by that news. "_I can't believe I passed Potions,"_ Harry thought to himself. The important thing was that Harry now had attained the right O.W.L.s in the right subjects to try to be an Auror; if he could past his N.E.W.T.s next year, that is. This was far better news than he had expected and he was actually able to produce some genuine smiles for the first time in weeks.

Dumbledore smiled at them all letting his gaze linger on Harry for a few moments longer than anyone else. Later Dumbledore left, telling them all that he would be back that evening to celebrate with them. Dumbledore did come that evening with Professor McGonagall right behind him. Professor McGonagall was unable to linger much past the cake cutting, but she winked discreetly at Harry before leaving. Harry gave her a faint smile. It was she who had promised to help Harry to become an Auror if that's what he really wanted; not to mention that she had also made sure to declare this loudly right in front of Dolores Umbridge during his career consultation a couple of months ago.

As the night wore on, however, Harry found his feelings were running rather bittersweet. When he had initially found out he had passed everything he'd wanted to pass, he had been genuinely pleased, but now he couldn't help but notice the conspicuous absence of his godfather from the proceedings. Everywhere he looked reminded him of Sirius; the table where they had sat together awaiting news when Mr. Weasley was attacked by that snake, the pantry where Sirius had tried to allay Harry's fears of becoming possessed by Voldemort, even the drawing room they had all decontaminated reminded him of Sirius. It was as if every memory of Sirius was a fresh reminder, reopening the same old wound.

How Harry made it through the next couple of weeks he didn't know, the days all seemed to slide together. July 31st, though, Harry's sixteenth birthday, brought an abrupt end to any monotony. A few people from the Order had gathered at headquarters for the occasion. Dumbledore was once again making an appearance at headquarters. Initially, Harry had mixed feelings at having his headmaster's attention on him again. He had felt so angry and hurt when Dumbledore had ignored him last year, and even though he now knew why, he still felt a bit battered over the whole situation.

Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley were busy lighting the candles on Harry's birthday cake while Lupin, Mr. Weasley, Tonks, Shacklebolt and Ginny set the table and put up decorations. Mrs. Weasley seemed unwilling to let Tonks near the candles. Dumbledore was talking to Harry off to the side when Harry suddenly cried out as his scar gave a terrific throb. It hurt so badly that Harry dropped the bottle of butterbeer he had been holding and it splattered all over the floor. It felt as though someone had taken a freshly sharpened hatchet and threw it into his forehead.

Harry found himself slumping on the carpet hands over his face while everyone rushed over to him, terrified. When Harry slowly removed his shaking hands from his now sweaty face he saw that Dumbledore and Lupin both had a hold of him. Lupin looked worried; Dumbledore extremely grave.

"What is it, Harry?" Lupin asked.

"This can't be good ... he's very, very happy," Harry gasped, cringing.

"Who," asked Lupin, startled, he had never seen Harry like this. But it was Dumbledore who answered.

"Voldemort," he said calmly.

As the pain slowly began to recede from his scar, Harry looked up at his circle of onlookers. What had been smiling faces were now very pale and tense. Dumbledore's face appeared to be set.

"Can you tell us anything more, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, gently, after a moment.

Harry looked into those calm blue eyes and even though his reaction to them only a month before had been one of anger and even violence, for some reason they now had the opposite effect. Taking a deep steadying breath, Harry said quietly, "I think more people have returned to him ... he seems absolutely ecstatic," he continued slowly, "I wouldn't bet on those Death Eaters being in Azkaban anymore."

Once again Harry could not say how he knew this; he just did. It was similar to the flashes he had experienced last year; suddenly and with no warning, Harry knew what Voldemort was thinking and feeling. It was not a pleasant experience. It was because of these horrible flashes that Voldemort had realized that he could use Harry for his own devices. The pain in Harry's scar was still stinging angrily. It had not hurt like this in a month, not since Voldemort had viciously possessed him in the Ministry of Magic. One thing was different, however. The pain was considerably worse than before. The flashes Harry had had last year had been painful, yes, but now ....

Harry had not been able to stop himself from crying out or falling to the floor, dropping what he had been holding. Harry felt weak, clammy, nauseous. He felt a horrible pang that had nothing to do with his forehead as he realized he had just been thinking he should tell Sirius about this, then stopped in his tracks a second later when he remembered that he could not.

"I just want to lie down," Harry muttered.

"We'll take him," both Ron and Hermione volunteered, but then Dumbledore turned to Harry and kneeled next to him on the floor.

"May I have a quick word, Harry," he asked.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, surprised.

"Harry, I want you to begin Occlumency lessons again," Dumbledore said.

"But, Professor ...." Harry began, thinking of Snape.

"_I _will be your teacher, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted.

"Oh ... okay Professor. When?"

"As soon as term begins. I am afraid I will not be able to be here with you often enough now if Voldemort and his followers are becoming active once more, but once we're all back at school I will have more time. This is still of great importance for you, Harry. Meet me in my office after your classes our first day back. And Harry," Dumbledore continued, "I want to know if this happens again."

As Dumbledore left, Ron and Hermione hauled Harry to his feet and steered him upstairs. Everyone looked on anxiously as the three of them slowly disappeared up the staircase. Ginny in particular seemed troubled as she got up to embrace her mother. Once in his and Ron's bedroom, Harry lay weakly on his bed closing his eyes. The pain was less blinding than before but still there. Ron and Hermione sat on either side of him. Harry felt vaguely aware of their presence in the room. After a moment, he suddenly realized that he had been shutting Ron and Hermione out ever since he had been back with them. Harry also realized that they were trying to understand what he was going through, even if they would never really know what it was like. Hermione spoke first.

"Harry .... "she began, then paused helplessly, looking over at Ron.

"Look ... I'm sorry I haven't been, well ... myself lately," Harry answered, opening his eyes again. For a few minutes all that they could hear was the occasional bump downstairs or the soft creaking of floorboards. Everyone was silent for a moment. Hedwig and Pigwidgeon were both asleep in their cages. The pain in Harry's scar was now a dull ache.

"I'm sorry I've been avoiding you two since I got back. I just ..." Harry trailed off.

"It's all right, mate," Ron spoke.

"We understand, Harry," Hermione agreed.

"BUT YOU DON'T," Harry said, much more loudly than he had intended. He sat up and sighed, calming himself. "I haven't been completely honest with you." Ron and Hermione simply waited, looking at Harry. Harry did not know that they had heard him grieving in his room that first night back. "There's something I have to tell you ...." Harry whispered. Harry knew the time had come to tell his two best friends about the prophecy.


	3. The Nightmare

_**Author's notes: First of all thank you to everyone who reviewed, I greatly appreciate the feedback. It is always helpful to see the story through objective eyes. Sorry that chapter went in wrong - here's the correct Chapter Three.**_

**_KJKIT: You're very sweet, I'll update soon._**

**_QueenWeasel: Thank you for reviewing on both of my chapters, I'm still getting used to using this medium, but I plan to update as often as possible._**

**_MinorMistake99: Thank you for the "real" comment - that's exactly what I'm going for. I'm probably going to add a little to make sure that Lupin and Figg don't appear too abruptly - thanks for the comment. I'm so glad you "LOVED" chapter 2! Thanks a bunch!_**

**_Loverofbothsexes5102: The pair(s) will be more evident in future chapters. I have quite a few chapters and will try to post them as often as possible. Be patient if you can - you'll see._**

**CHAPTER THREE - THE NIGHTMARE**

"But Harry," Hermione exclaimed, "how do you know what's in the prophecy? Neville said it got broken."

"Dumbledore. Dumbledore was the one who heard the prophecy in the first place, and he told me what it said last June." Harry answered.

"It was about you and you-know-who, wasn't it, Harry? What did it say?" Ron asked, cautiously. He looked like he wanted to know but was slightly afraid of what Harry's answer might really be.

"It said ..." Harry hesitated. This was turning out to be harder than he thought. Harry looked at his hands, "It said something like - 'the one who can defeat Voldemort will be born at the end of July to parents who had defied Voldemort three times,'" Harry paused. Ron and Hermione were perfectly still, listening raptly. "It said, 'Voldemort would mark him as an equal, but that he ... he would have power that Voldemort doesn't,'" Harry's last words felt as if they were ripped from him rather than spoken, "'and ... and either will die because neither can survive while the other still lives,' in the end."

A dreadful silence followed Harry's last words; he was still looking at his hands. Harry hadn't talked at all about the prophecy since Dumbledore had told him about it last June. Saying the prophecy out loud and in his own words had brought the truth of it home to Harry in a way that nothing else could have.

"But ... but what does that mean ... exactly?" Ron asked, looking afraid.

Harry suddenly felt very tired and much, much older than his barely sixteen years. He looked up at Ron and Hermione. While Harry had been talking, they had slid next to each other. They had their arms linked, but their facial expressions were quite different. Hermione looked completely horrified, while Ron looked slightly incredulous, but pale.

"It means that my ... well, Dumbledore said that my life and Voldemort's are linked. I guess at some point we will have to meet again and that one of us will have to ... will have to die ..." Harry swallowed, his throat was suddenly quite dry.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione squeaked, as she put her head in her hands.

After a few moments, Ron stammered, "No ... that couldn't possibly mean..."

"It does ..." Harry said heavily.

"You mean .... you and you-know-who have got to fight each other ..." Ron paused, he apparently couldn't bring himself to say it.

"To the death ... yeah," Harry concluded, hopelessly, looking away from them again. For a moment all three of them sat perfectly still and silent. Harry felt drained, sapped of all energy and strength as if he carried the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. _"But then maybe I am,"_ he thought bitterly, as they all sat there speechlessly. Ron and Hermione seemed too stunned to even move.

"But somehow you can beat him ... right, Harry?" Ron asked, grasping for straws.

"Yes, Harry," Hermione said, looking up at him, "The power that Voldemort doesn't have ... you can still win." she paused, "Did Dumbledore say what that power was?"

Harry didn't answer. He hadn't anticipated how difficult it would be to talk about this again. All this talk of the prophecy was reminding him of how he had felt that night that Sirius was taken from him, and Harry started to feel a strong choking sensation in his throat again. Harry swallowed. When he looked up at them again, he realized he'd been holding his breath without meaning to. Harry let it out and tried to say something, but he honestly didn't know what else to say.

Suddenly Hermione whispered desperately, "But Harry, what are you going to_ do_?"

"I dunno," Harry whispered sadly, and then exhausted, lay back down on the bed.

-----------------

Harry felt totally dejected as he tried to go to sleep that night, but now at least Ron and Hermione knew about the prophecy. Harry still felt desperately alone and separate from everyone else, but sharing the horrible knowledge of the prophecy with them made him feel like the burden wasn't quite as heavy as before. Ron and Hermione were the two bright spots in his life; they were his first and best friends, and they had always been there for him when he'd needed them most. Though he could scarcely even think about it, without them in his life he knew he would be totally lost. With that last thought Harry drifted off into a fitful sleep.

_He was walking down the hallway at Grimmauld Place - Ron and Hermione were leading him somewhere - they kept looking furtively back at him as they gestured for him to follow. Harry wondered why they weren't speaking to him, but then pushed that thought away as they reached a door with a serpent-shaped doorknob at the end of the hall. They motioned for him to go inside first. _

_As Harry opened the door, though, it was not Grimmauld Place anymore but the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts. Harry turned around to look for Ron and Hermione, but they had disappeared from his side. As he entered the room it looked just like it had during their D.A. meetings last year. Harry saw movement from out of the corner of his eye and turned._

_Something dark was huddled in the shadows. He started to walk toward it. "Oh my God, it's Sirius!" Harry realized. Sirius was bound and tied struggling against his bonds, but definitely **alive. **"SIRIUS!" Harry screamed as he ran towards Sirius to untie him. But just as he got there, Sirius turned into Ron and Hermione. They were now bound and tied back to back in the same bonds that had been holding Sirius._

_Just then Harry heard an eerie, horribly familiar cold high-pitched laugh coming from directly behind him. Harry turned suddenly, the hair on his arms and back of his neck raised as though he were standing on ice; his scar immediately on fire. Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at Ron and Hermione. "CRUCIO!" he said in an evil cackle, devoid of all human emotion. Ron and Hermione screamed through their gags, their bodies crumpled together as their eyes streamed in pain. _

_Harry flew at Voldemort, even though he had no wand and was only in his pajamas. Voldemort turned his wand on Harry, but instead of using an unforgivable curse, he cried "Immobilus," instead. Harry was frozen stock-still a few feet away unable to move or speak. His best friends were screaming in agony and there was nothing he could do about it. Voldemort turned back to Ron and Hermione who were still bound together groaning in pain. They looked pleadingly at Harry as Voldemort raised his wand. Harry, still under the spell's influence, couldn't move no matter how hard he tried. Voldemort said, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" as a green light flew towards Ron and Hermione's horrified faces ....."_

"NO .... NO ..... NOOOOOOOO!" Back at Grimmauld Place Harry Potter awoke tearing at his bedclothes; he was screaming and shaking uncontrollably as his scar seared and burned.

-----------------------

Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny were all stationed outside Harry's door in their night things. Dumbledore had come straight to headquarters after being notified; he had actually apparated right to Harry's side. Nobody was quite sure of what had happened.

When Harry started screaming Ron had been unable to wake him, so he called for help, horrified. Everyone in the house was already on their way, though, having been awakened by the terrible noise of Harry's panicked cries. Harry had been beside himself with terror; initially it had taken some time to get him calmed down - he still thought he was at Hogwarts and that Ron and Hermione had literally been murdered. Even when Harry finally did start to come to his senses, he couldn't stop shaking. Dumbledore asked everyone to leave him with Harry for a moment.

But Harry had then panicked when they all got up to leave. Harry was dizzy and horribly nauseous, his scar was still throbbing with pain, and it had all felt like he was really there; like he was _still_ there now. No one seemed to understand just how _real _this was to him. Harry just wanted to look at Ron and Hermione once more to reassure himself that they really were alive and okay. After he and Dumbledore were alone, Harry felt horribly unnerved and jittery; he seemed unable to hold still.

Harry had never in his life had a nightmare that powerful before - it was even more real than the terrifying visions he'd had last year. Harry told Dumbledore everything, including how powerful and intense it had all seemed, while holding his forehead in one of his shaking hands. Harry's heart was still beating fast when Dumbledore sat down next to him on the bed. Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder before he spoke.

"Voldemort may be causing you to have these dreams, Harry, as an extension of the visions he has already sent to you," Dumbledore explained directly in his calm voice. "I believe he may be sending you these dreams to try to break into your mind and destabilize it."

"You mean he's trying to make me go mad?" Harry asked, panicking slightly.

"It is possible," Dumbledore said quietly, "Harry, I want you to do your best to empty your mind before you go to sleep at night - every night. I will begin working with you as soon as we get back to Hogwarts, but in the meantime you must do your best to empty your mind."

"Yes, sir," Harry mumbled, shivering, as he looked down at his mangled bedclothes. He had actually managed to rip one of his blankets while he'd been violently thrashing around earlier.

"It will be all right, Harry, we _will_ find way to stop this," Dumbledore said reassuringly as he got up to leave.

As Dumbledore left he sent Ron back in and told everyone that Harry was going to be fine and to try to go back to sleep. As Harry lay in bed continuing to shiver feverishly, Ron set something down on the dresser in the corner. When Harry glanced over at him again, however, he found Ron was standing right next to him. "Here," Ron offered, "Mum made you some tea." As Harry tried to hold the cup steady enough to take a sip, Ron sat on his own bed again. "It's going to be okay, Harry ... honestly," Ron said soothingly. "We'll figure this out." Harry nodded silently. It was reassuring to him that Ron had basically repeated what Dumbledore had just told him without realizing it. It meant a lot to him that his best friend did not think him a raving lunatic - even if Harry wasn't quite so sure of it himself.

-------------------

The next morning Harry awoke to hear Ron throwing owl treats to Hedwig and Pigwidgeon; he was already dressed. "Harry," Ron said in a quiet voice as he slowly walked back over to the beds, "I just wanted to tell you ... well, Hermione and I have been really worried about you, mate ..." he paused. Harry had just put on his glasses and was pulling himself out from under his torn bedclothes. "It's just that we wanted you to know, I dunno, that we're here for you," Ron continued, "if you need to talk or anything, you know ... whatever you need."

When Harry remained silent, Ron asked, "Are you coming downstairs, then?"

"Yeah sure, in a minute, okay," Harry murmured, his head down. "Oh, and Ron ... thanks." Harry only looked up after Ron had shut the door to their room. He still couldn't help feeling shaken and hopeless in the wake of the horrible images he had witnessed last night. Harry knew that Ron was trying to help him, but at the moment he felt quite beyond help.

Harry got up and walked to his trunk to change. As he pulled some wrinkled clothes out of his trunk he saw the remnants of Sirius' mirror glinting up at him. He took the broken shards and lay them on the mirror-backed dresser in the corner wondering whether to repair it or not. As Harry stood there he glanced up and caught a fleeting glimpse of his reflection. He stopped, staring.

Harry took a good long look at himself in the mirror, it had been a while since he had done so. Harry barely recognized the person who was staring back at him. He was unmercifully pale and thin; his scar bright red on his forehead. Harry's untidy black hair was messier than he could ever remember seeing it, and he had dark circles under his eyes. Even though Harry had grown a bit taller - his pajamas were definitely a bit too short now - he felt small, insignificant. Harry looked down at his hands, they were still holding on to the shattered mirror. As he turned them over, Harry could see the faint outline of "I must not tell lies," that he had been forced to etch into the back of his hand by Umbridge, a harsh reminder of what he'd had to deal with last year. He wondered idly how many more scars he would be carrying around when this was all over, "_if I survive at all,"_ Harry thought to himself, despairingly.

After a few moments of despondence, however, Harry shook his head violently as if to dispel these dark thoughts. "What are you doing?" Harry asked his reflection. He stood staring at himself in the mirror as he listened to the rumble of voices and the clanking of dishes downstairs. Harry suddenly realized he had to stop himself from falling even deeper into the well of despair he was now in. He had to dig himself out somehow, no matter how difficult it was to do. He had to fight not only his own despair, but also his nemesis. Harry had to fight Voldemort, to defeat him once and for all. No matter what Harry had to do, no matter what it cost him, no matter what the price to himself may be; Voldemort had to be destroyed, and Harry was the only one who could do it. At that moment Harry knew what he had to do; he had made his decision. He was going to do the only thing that he could do; he was going to _fight.  
_


	4. The Letter

_**Author's Note: **_

**_QueenWeasel - I'm afraid it's going to be a bumpy ride for Harry - lots of ups and downs. Please keep reading, though, there's always good along with the bad. : )_**

**_MinorMistake99 - Thanks for the continued input. Please stay tuned. : )_**

**CHAPTER FOUR - THE LETTER**

Over the next few weeks of the holiday, Harry resolved to fight Voldemort in every way possible. Every night before bed he strove as hard as he could to empty his mind of all thought and emotion as Dumbledore had instructed. This was sometimes more difficult to do than at other times, but so far Harry had experienced no more terrifying nightmares involving losing those he cared about the most. Harry had caught Ron, Hermione, and even Ginny sneaking furtively anxious looks at him when they thought he wasn't looking. Partially because of this, Harry endeavored to be as productive as possible. He felt more stable when he was actually staying busy and useful. He worked on his homework, which he had been entirely too preoccupied to do until now anyway, then Harry volunteered to help Mrs. Weasley with any housekeeping chores she was willing to set him.

Finally, when the last day of the holidays had arrived, Harry found himself eager to get back to school. He hoped that Dumbledore had been able to find a competent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for Harry felt the more he could learn now, the more confident he would feel when he faced Voldemort again. Harry had tried his best to accept the prophecy and all of its consequences since telling Ron and Hermione about it the month before. Harry didn't ever want to be caught off-guard again.

The next day, though, as Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny sat in their compartment on the Hogwarts Express - Ron and Hermione had just returned from their prefect duties - Harry gazed silently out the window unsure of how he really felt about returning to school. The last year at Hogwarts had been so miserable for Harry that as he spotted the turrets of the castle poking through the fog in the distance, he found that he had a slight case of the nerves.

"Well, it can't be any worse than last year, can it?" Ron said, as if reading Harry's mind. Hermione gave Ron a quelling look, though, as she picked up Crookshanks and looked over at Harry.

"Oh Harry, I'm _sure_ this year will be better," she said. Hermione and Ron had both been watching Harry as he looked out the window restlessly. Ginny, too, had kept a close eye on him ever since the train had pulled out from King's Cross Station that morning. "For one thing, Umbridge is gone," Hermione continued, smirking.

"Unless Fudge has decided to put another evil Ministry hag in her place," Ron put in, frowning. Harry frowned, too.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Ginny spoke up suddenly, looking at Harry.

"Why not?" Ron and Hermione both asked at the same time.

"Well ...." Ginny grinned rather impishly at the three of them, "Fred and George saw fit to lend me some extendable ears for the summer."

"What did you hear?" Ron wanted to know.

"One night when Mum and Dad thought we were all in bed, they started whispering down in the dining room with the door open." Ginny explained. "I heard them say that Dumbledore had filled all the posts at school and that he wasn't allowing Fudge or the Ministry within a mile of Hogwarts this year." Ginny stated, matter-of-factly.

"Good," said Harry, speaking for the first time the entire trip, "One less thing to worry about." He saw Ron, Hermione, and Ginny give each other a look before glancing back at him as the train started to slow down. Harry Potter, for good or ill, was back at Hogwarts once again.

------------------------------

As Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny clambered up the stone steps of the entryway into Hogwarts Castle, Harry noticed that the fog outside was giving the windows in the upper towers a mystical glittering glow. Once inside, the Great Hall also reflected the fog swirling outside as Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore and many of the teachers were sitting up front at the staff table as usual._ "This almost feels normal again," _Harry thought, trying to relax.

The doors to the hall opened again, admitting Professor McGonagall and tiny Professor Flitwick along with a number of very small nervous-looking first years. Professor McGonagall didn't lead them to the front, but instead walked toward the Gryffindor table and spotting Harry, headed toward him. As Professor Flitwick proceeded to the front with the first years, Professor McGonagall bent over Harry and whispered, "I need you to come with me to my office, Potter. It will only take a moment," Professor McGonagall said to quell Harry's sudden look of trepidation. "Something has arrived for you."

As Harry and Professor McGonagall departed quietly, he noticed that many more smiles and waves were aimed in his direction than he had experienced last year. Now that it was common knowledge that Voldemort was indeed amongst them once more, Harry was seen as being rather heroic by many in the school, especially by his own house. And although this support had meant nothing to him at the end of last year, now he felt somewhat comforted by it. It was certainly better than being reviled and mistrusted. Harry wondered what could have arrived for him that wasn't being brought to him directly by his own Hedwig. Once in McGonagall's office, she carefully closed the door behind them.

"Have a seat, Potter," Professor McGonagall said, in her businesslike demeanor. She opened a cabinet and pulled out a thick manila envelope. As she turned back to Harry, McGonagall's manner softened considerably.

"This is yours, Potter," she said, gently, handing the envelope to Harry.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's Sirius' estate, Potter, it's yours now," McGonagall answered, softly.

Harry was stunned. As he opened the envelope several thick pieces of parchment toppled out of it and onto his lap. The topmost page read:

_I, Sirius Black, being of sound mind and body, do bequeath onto Harry James Potter, my godson, all my estate including all assets and securities of the Black family estate._

Harry gazed wide-eyed at the parchment. "Professor," he asked, "what does this mean?"

"It means that you are now the owner of Sirius' estate, including Grimmauld Place." she said, quietly. "Or you will be upon your seventeenth birthday, when you are of age."

"Sirius left the Black family estate to me?" Harry asked again, not taking a bit of it in.

"Yes," McGonagall repeated. "He considered _you_ to be his heir, Potter. He said he wanted to make sure you would be taken care of." As Harry looked up at her, he noticed that she looked slightly misty-eyed.

"Well, Potter, we really should be returning to the feast," McGonagall sniffed, her tone a bit more brisk. "It's getting late."

Harry nodded blankly but did not rise from the chair. McGonagall paused at the doorway looking back at Harry; her face showing the worry that Harry facing the other direction could not see. "Stay as long as you like," she added softly, and with that shut the door.

Harry couldn't believe it; Sirius had left his entire estate to him. After sitting dumbfounded for a few moments longer, Harry got up to go back to the feast, but as he got to the entrance and heard all the voices and clattering of china, he realized he was no longer hungry. Harry wanted quiet and decided to go to Gryffindor tower. Harry got all the way to the Fat Lady's portrait before he realized where he was. Just as he looked up at her, however, Colin Creevey came clambering out of the portrait hole. Colin seemed transported with delight at the sight of Harry standing there.

"Hi ya, Harry!" Colin beamed at him, almost running him over in his enthusiasm.

"Hi, Colin," Harry said numbly, his mind still on Sirius.

"I'm a prefect, Harry, do you believe it?" Colin gushed, pointing ecstatically to the new shiny red badge on his robes.

"Oh," said Harry, "great, Colin."

"The password is 'tiddlywinks,' by the way, so you know," Colin continued, practically bobbing up and down, seemingly oblivious to Harry's mood.

"Thanks," said Harry, eager to escape.

"See ya, Harry!" Harry heard from behind him as he quickly climbed in while the portrait was still open.

Harry was the only one in his dormitory as he sat on his four-poster bed holding the manila envelope. He pulled his curtains closed and poured out the rest of the contents on his mattress. Other than the will itself, most of it was very formal legal-looking documents that Harry made a mental note to ask Mr. Weasley about later, if necessary. One thing that fell out, however, was a small light blue envelope. When Harry turned it over he saw his name written on it; it was in Sirius' handwriting. Harry opened it frantically, wondering what Sirius had written to him.

_Harry,_

_If you are reading this it means that I am no longer with you. I am sorry because the last thing I would want to do is leave you alone. I feel responsible for you, Harry, both for your well being and your happiness. You are _so_ like your parents, Harry. You are adventurous and brave like you father, but also mature and sensitive like your mother. It has been such a joy getting to know you. You will be a much better man than I am, I think. Everything I have, I happily give to you - you deserve it. I hope your future will bring you much joy and happiness. You are capable of great things, Harry, which I hope you are beginning to realize. I know you feel quite able to take care of yourself, but do not forget to depend on those you care about; I've seen you get reclusive sometimes. If you ever get lonely just remember - I will be where your parents are now - you can always find us in your heart. You are strong, Harry, you will be all right. Please know that your parents and I love you very much. Take care of yourself, Harry, and become the great man you were born to be._

_Sirius_

A little while later Harry lay looking up at the canopy of his bed feeling thoroughly miserable. He felt like he was on an emotional roller coaster that he couldn't get off of. The letter Sirius had left him had brought forth powerful emotions that Harry just couldn't deny. He missed Sirius so much he felt like he would never feel whole or normal again. Just then, Ron and Hermione came bursting into the dormitory calling Harry's name. They stopped, though, when they saw that his curtains were drawn.

"Maybe he's asleep," Ron suggested, but only half-heartedly.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione asked, worriedly. "Did something happen?"

Harry grimaced and reluctantly opened his curtains. "I'm all right," he said in a muffled voice.

Hermione came closer and said, "I know something has happened, Harry," she said, quietly. "You can tell us."

Harry sat up and tucked Sirius' letter back into the larger envelope. He slowly pushed the curtains back from his bed. "Sirius has given me his estate, including Grimmauld Place," he said, just above a whisper.

"Wow," gasped Hermione.

Ron came a bit closer as well, "But this is good news, Harry, you can leave the Dursley's now, if you want." Harry frowned, he hadn't thought of that. "Yeah, mate, you'll never have to see them again." Ron kept going, trying to cheer Harry up.

This information actually did make Harry feel a bit better. Harry had wanted to leave the Dursley's ever since he had found out he was a wizard five years ago. He detested living with the Dursley's; they had never shown even the remotest amount of affection for him, even though they were Harry's only living blood relatives. Harry had never been happy in their home; the Dursley's had always made it clear that he wasn't wanted. Knowing that he would never have to return there was a great relief; Harry actually began to feel hungry and wished he hadn't missed dinner. Harry's stomach even growled audibly at the thought. Hermione jumped as though suddenly remembering something.

"Wait," she said, flying through the door. When she came back, Hermione was holding a large cloth napkin full of warm rolls. Harry looked at her, surprised. "I brought them to the common room just in case you were hungry." Harry took them gratefully, feeling far better than he had in a long time.


	5. Occlumency Revisited

_**Author's Notes: This chapter is a bit longer, hope you like it! : )**_

**CHAPTER FIVE - OCCLUMENCY REVISITED**

The next morning at breakfast Professor McGonagall handed out their new N.E.W.T. level class schedules. Now that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sixth years, they were only required to take what classes they would specifically need for their careers and could drop any others. Unfortunately for Harry, Auror training required potion-making, which meant another two years of suffering under Snape's tutelage. As Ron wanted to be an Auror, too, they were both in the same boat.

"Oh, great," Ron exclaimed sullenly. "Double Potions first thing." Harry looked at his schedule. He had decided to drop History of Magic, Astronomy, and of course, Divination. Harry felt quite glad that he would never have to sit through Professor Binn's monotonous drone or Professor Trelawney's dire warnings of death and mutilation ever again. Harry felt he had quite enough on his plate just trying to get through his other classes.

Hermione on the other hand had been hesitant to drop any of her multitude of classes as she had not decided on a career path, yet. She finally decided to drop History of Magic and Astronomy, but carried on with everything else. Even though Care of Magical Creatures was not a N.E.W.T. requirement for Auror training, Harry and Ron had continued to take it for Hagrid's sake.

Hermione leaned closer to Ron examining his schedule. "Well, at least we've all got Hagrid this afternoon," she said, encouragingly.

Down in the dungeons, Snape was just as cold and ominous as ever. If he was surprised that Harry had passed into N.E.W.T. level, he was hiding it behind his flashing dark eyes. Snape had apparently decided to ignore Harry whenever possible, just as he had last year after catching Harry in the pensieve. Harry had witnessed Snape being tormented by his father, James, that day, and Snape had thrown him bodily from his office. No matter what Snape might think of him, however, Harry would always hate Snape even more. Harry would never forgive Snape for not coming to his aid when he thought Voldemort had trapped Sirius last year.

Harry tried to work quietly, focusing on his potion ingredients rather than on Snape's ugly face, but he felt such strong surges of hatred every time Snape walked by that it was difficult. Ron and Hermione sat on either side of Harry, flanking him. They seemed to think that Harry was only safe around Snape if there was some kind of buffer. At the end of the class, however, Harry had somehow managed to keep his temper under wraps.

It was not until he, Ron, and Hermione were taking their potion samples up front that Harry had his first encounter with his other rival, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was leaning against one of the front tables with his cronies, muttering something in low tones. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione came closer, a look of absolute loathing crossed Malfoy's pointed rat-like face.

"Potter," Malfoy hissed, almost spitting the word.

Harry looked up at Malfoy's white blond head. "Yeah," he said, almost casually.

"You're going to pay, Potter, not everyone around here thinks you're such a tragic little hero," Malfoy sneered menacingly, Crabbe and Goyle by his side.

Ron and Hermione had stepped up on either side of Harry, their fists around their wands. But Harry wasn't the least bit intimidated by Malfoy anymore. As they all stood there, Harry simply gave Malfoy a derisive snort of contempt and brushed right past him. Malfoy seemed incensed and was in the process of drawing his wand when the bell rang and Snape started to announce the homework assignment from the back of the room.

Apparently this interruption stifled Malfoy's nerve, and he angrily shoved his wand back into his robes as everyone started to leave. Harry left the dungeon quickly without even looking at Malfoy or Snape. Ron and Hermione were forced to run to catch up to him.

After lunch Harry, Ron, and Hermione traipsed across the grounds to Hagrid's cabin. They had barely seen Hagrid during the summer; he always seemed to be busy, never spending much time at headquarters. As Harry spotted Hagrid next to his front door, he felt very glad to see him. Harry looked around. It seemed Malfoy and his cronies hadn't decided to pursue Care of Magical Creatures as a career path; they were nowhere in sight.

As the small N.E.W.T. class formed around Hagrid's cabin, Hagrid beamed at Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "Good ter see you three." They all three beamed right back.

"How's your er ... project in the forest going, Hagrid?" Hermione asked.

"Project? ... Oh yeah, project. Great, jus' great, loads better than las' year."

Harry wondered if Hagrid's busy summer was due to Grawp, Hagrid's half-brother but full giant. But just as Harry began to open his mouth, Hagrid left and said, "Jus' a mo' - better get goin'" as he ran into his cabin. When he emerged he was carrying a beautiful red and gold feathered bird the size of a swan.

"Fawkes," cried Harry, in surprise.

"Yeah, Harry, today we'll be studying the phoenix." Hagrid said, the corners of his dark beard crinkling upwards. Then officially beginning the class, Hagrid asked, "Does anyone know what qualities make a phoenix special?"

Hermione's hand, as always, was first in the air followed closely by Harry's.

"Aye, Hermione," Hagrid said.

"The phoenix is known for its restorative song, its long life, and its feathers are used as magical cores in wand-making," Hermione spouted, sounding quite like an encyclopedia.

"Ten points ter Gryffindor," said Hagrid, with a grin. "Does anyone know what else the phoenix is capable of?" Hagrid asked, continuing.

"Well, they can also carry very heavy loads .... and I've seen Fawkes apparate and disapparate just about wherever he wants," Harry spoke up, thinking of when he had seen Fawkes in action. "Phoenix tears also have amazing healing powers," he finished.

"Well done, Harry, well done. That's another ten ter Gryffindor," Hagrid went on. "The phoenix is one of the rarest and mos' amazing of magical creatures. This phoenix belongs to Professor Dumbledore an' he gave me special permission to borrow him fer these advanced N.E.W.T. classes," Hagrid explained, setting Fawkes on a fence post. "Now why don' yeh all come up an' give Fawkes a pat."

As the class moved forward to pet Fawkes' always warm tail feathers, Hagrid motioned Harry to the side. "Alrigh' Harry?" he asked, looking into Harry's face carefully.

"Sure," Harry replied, changing the subject, "Say Hagrid, how _is_ everything going with Grawp?" he asked, as Ron and Hermione came over to join them.

"Oh he's fine, Harry, jus' grand," Hagrid said, enthusiastically. "He's speakin' pretty good English now. We've bin havin' lots of conversations this summer."

"That's good," breathed Ron, giving Harry a relieved look. Last year Hagrid had asked the three of them to teach Grawp English, a terrifying feat none of them had really wanted to participate in.

-------------------------

As they sat down to dinner later discussing their first day of lessons, Dumbledore approached the Gryffindor table. "Just wanted to remind you to stop by after dinner, Harry," Dumbledore said. "The password is 'Droobles Best Blowing Gum,' by the way," he whispered, lowering his voice and smiling.

"Yes, Professor," Harry answered. But as Professor Dumbledore left, Harry's face fell. "Last year Occlumency always made me feel sick and shaky. I don't fancy going through that again."

"Well, mate," Ron suggested, "maybe that was just because it was Snape."

"Maybe," Harry said, unconvinced.

Hermione looked as though she had wanted to argue with Ron when he had mentioned Snape, but she reluctantly decided to desist at the last moment. With an effort, she turned to Harry and advised, "Harry, if your scar hurts when you do Occlumency with Dumbledore, just tell him. Maybe there's a way to lessen the discomfort or something."

"Maybe," Harry said, again.

He was not really looking forward to this, but he felt it had to be done. Harry did not want to feel like a fragile weakling anymore, for any reason. When Harry arrived at Dumbledore's door, his headmaster was quick to answer.

"Ah, Harry, have a seat," Dumbledore began, letting Harry in. "First I want to know how much you learned from Professor Snape last year."

"Well," Harry hesitated. Most of the time spent with Snape last year had ended up with Harry on the floor trying to recover as Snape viciously attacked his mind. Harry did not want Dumbledore to think he wasn't up to this, however, so he tried to come up with a better answer. "He told me to empty my mind of thought and emotion," Harry answered him, a bit tentatively.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied, "that is essential to a good Occlumens. What else?"

"Er ..." Harry remembered Snape telling him to defend himself, but Snape had never given Harry any instruction in_ how _to do it. "He said I should defend myself in any way I could think of."

"Ah," Dumbledore said, his face inscrutable. Then, "This is of the greatest importance, Harry," Dumbledore said, looking very seriously at him. "We are going to practice in a moment, but first you must know the proper steps. The first step _is_ emptying your mind, but the next step is the most important. You must focus, Harry. Focus on your goal. Picture your mind as a tangible object you can physically see. Then in your mind's eye, picture yourself creating a shield, a barrier all the way around it. Make the shield sturdy, strong, impenetrable. Once you can do that, automatically and without thinking, Harry, I believe you should be able to thwart external attacks."

Harry felt considerably better upon hearing this. Now that he actually knew what to do, he felt he had a better chance of success.

"Are you ready, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"I think so," Harry replied, trying to brace himself.

"Then stand, facing me," Dumbledore instructed, standing himself. "Now make your mind a blank slate, feel all your thoughts and emotions melting away. They are separate, apart." Dumbledore continued, in a soft voice. "Now build your barrier."

Harry pictured himself conjuring large heavy steel doors that went all the way around him.

"Now, when you hear the spell, raise your wand and use whatever spell comes to mind to protect yourself." Dumbledore explained, "When you are in that state of mind, whatever spell you choose will be the best for the situation. Do you understand, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry responded, focusing his mind.

"I shall count to three, then utter the incantation. One ... two ... three ... _Legilimens_!" Dumbledore said.

Harry felt the spell coming toward him, and he pictured it hitting the steel wall of doors he had placed around his mind, but the spell was too powerful. The next thing Harry saw was ... Voldemort rising from the cauldron in the graveyard ... then Voldemort turning his wand on Ron and Hermione in his dream, the green light of death flying toward them ... then - being wrapped again in the burning coils of a snake-like creature - their bodies were fused as Harry screamed in agony ...

Harry looked up from the floor where he had fallen. Dumbledore was standing directly over him reaching for his arm.

"Are you hurt, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, sounding a bit shaken.

"Sorry," Harry said, gasping, his hand rubbing his scar as Dumbledore helped him into a cushioned chair. "I don't think I had my shield quite strong enough," Harry said shakily, trying to regain control. He had actually felt like the coils had been around him again. Harry gripped the arms of the chair to stop his hands from trembling. Harry's scar prickled painfully, but he was determined to succeed, to face his fear.

Dumbledore, however, had stopped. He had turned away from Harry and was facing the window looking out onto the dark grounds.

"Harry .... Is that what happened last time .... with Professor Snape?" Dumbledore's voice sounded funny to Harry, odd and distant.

"Well, not exactly like that," Harry answered, "The memories weren't all of Voldemort before. And well ..." he hesitated, shivering. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to admit this. "This time it was much more ... painful. But I'll be okay, let's try again - "

Dumbledore turned to face Harry looking very concerned. "I know this is difficult, Harry, but I need to know. Did you feel pain just now not just in your scar, but also like you were truly wrapped in those coils again?" Obviously Dumbledore had seen what Harry had remembered.

"Yes," Harry replied, a feeling of dread coming over him.

"Just as I feared," Dumbledore said, mysteriously, almost to himself. He came over closer to Harry. "Harry, have you had any more flashes of Voldemort since your nightmare back at headquarters?" Dumbledore asked, sharply.

"No sir," Harry said, taken aback, "I'd have told you!"

"Well, I believe we may well have just gotten his attention once more." Dumbledore said.

"But, how?" Harry sputtered, he had thought Occlumency was supposed to help him, not make matters worse.

"As I have said before, Harry, you and Voldemort have a connection that may never be completely understood. Somehow he can still reach you, even though he should not have been able to." Dumbledore stated.

Harry was suddenly compelled to finally voice the question that he had been bottling up inside himself ever since he had heard the prophecy last year. "_How_ am I supposed to defeat him then, Professor? If I can't even keep him out of my mind - what's going to happen when we face each other again?" Without intending to, Harry had let some of the terror he was feeling about that final confrontation color his voice.

Dumbledore now appeared stricken, old, frailly human. Harry had only seen him look like this once before at the end of last year after they came back from the Ministry. Suddenly, Harry knew. He knew he was completely alone in this. There was nothing anybody anywhere could do to help him. If Voldemort were to walk in here right now, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to defeat him. Harry knew he would be dead before he hit the floor.

But before Harry could travel down that path of destructive despair again, Fawkes came flying out of an unseen corner of Dumbledore's office. As Harry and Dumbledore watched, Fawkes landed on Harry's shoulder and sang two long peaceful notes. Harry's dark feelings of despair evaporated suddenly, even his headache was gone.

"Fawkes," Harry whispered. Harry sat there for a long moment as Dumbledore stood looking down at him. The frail, stricken look was gone from Dumbledore's face now, and he slowly sat down across from Harry again.

"We will find a way, Harry," Dumbledore said, simply. "Let's try again tomorrow evening."

"Okay, Professor," Harry said, feeling calmer. As Harry got up to leave, however, Dumbledore stopped him.

"Harry, do not forget; there is _always_ hope."

----------------------------

The next day Harry, Ron, and Hermione had N.E.W.T. level charms in the morning with Advanced Transfiguration in the afternoon. Professor Flitwick had kindly congratulated the class for advancing to the N.E.W.T. level upon their arrival in class.

"We are going to be starting out this term with the highly useful 'locomotion charm' that allows the witch or wizard using it to move people across a short distance, such as the distance from one side of this room to the other." Professor Flitwick announced, in his squeaky voice. "Some of you have already achieved this, perhaps accidentally," he continued, looking at Harry's friend and fellow Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, who grinned sheepishly. Neville had once sent Professor Flitwick across the room instead of the cushion he was bewitching. "But now we will attempt to control who moves and where they actually move to." A spattering of giggles punctuated the classroom.

Professor Flitwick had everyone pair up to practice. Ron and Hermione paired up next to Harry and Neville. Before last year, Harry might not have wanted to partner Neville while spell-casting. But after the D.A. meetings and the confrontation in the Ministry of Magic, Neville had demonstrated that he was now a much more competent and confident wizard then he had once been. Harry had spent his time almost exclusively in the company of Ron and Hermione after returning to Hogwarts, so he hadn't really spoken much to Neville, yet.

"How have you been, Harry?" Neville asked, as they got ready to practice.

"Okay, Neville. How was your summer?" Harry asked.

"Not bad, actually. I passed most of my O.W.L.s, so Gran was really pleased." Neville said, smiling. He seemed much more mature that he had last year as well. Harry could appreciate the change.

"See what I've got, Harry," Neville said excitedly, as he brandished an obviously brand new wand. "It's mahogany and phoenix feather, thirteen inches long."

"Yeah, Neville, that's a nice one." Harry said. Harry remembered that a Death Eater had broken Neville's old wand in the Ministry of Magic in June. The Death Eater had also managed to break Neville's nose, though thanks to Madam Pomfrey, you couldn't even tell now.

"Er ... how did your Gran react when she found out that your dad's old wand got broken?" Harry asked, hesitantly. Neville's grandmother was a very formidable and somewhat frightening witch. Harry could well imagine her reaction. Neville frowned slightly.

"Well, she was upset at first, but when I explained everything she actually seemed to be quite proud of me," Neville said, in an almost disbelieving tone. "She's not angry at me at all, now."

Harry faced Neville as they got ready to try the new spell. Harry went first. "_Locomotor-corpus_," he said the incantation. Neville's feet left the ground, and he went floating across the room. Next it was Neville's turn. Harry was impressed; Neville swiftly sent Harry across the room on his first try, as well.

"Well done, well done," Professor Flitwick cried from a nearby stack of books.

"Yeah, that was great, Neville," Harry said, clapping him on the back. Neville beamed at Harry; he actually looked like he might just levitate without using magic at all.

Harry was feeling fairly upbeat as he, Ron, and Hermione sat down to lunch. They all ate with gusto. They had Advanced Transfiguration that afternoon. As the three of them entered the classroom, Professor McGonagall gave Harry a kind smile before assuming her regular stern teaching manner.

"This year," she began, "we will began learning about human transfiguration. It is extremely difficult, therefore, only the most dedicated and serious-minded witches and wizards are able to succeed." McGonagall explained. "Transfiguring a person into something else is always a challenge, but for those of you who are facing certain labor-intensive careers, such as Healer or Auror, this skill is essential." The rest of the class was spent reading the theory as Professor McGonagall explained their first example in a series of complicated diagrams on the blackboard.

After Transfiguration Harry, Ron, and Hermione went down to dinner. Hermione was almost quaking with excitement, "Human transfiguration is going to be such a wonderfully interesting challenge," she said, with a slightly mad gleam in her eye. Hermione couldn't help it, she simply loved books and learning. This fanaticism of hers was of course a standing joke between Ron and Harry, and when Ron then rolled his eyes at Harry melodramatically, Harry snorted rather loudly into his pumpkin juice. Harry had then tried to hide his amusement by taking a large bite of potatoes, but Hermione had already noticed, and she glared at Ron reproachfully.

"Oh honestly, Ron, you should be thrilled to learn this. It might even help you to become an Auror." she said, presumptuously. Ron now had his mouth too full of chicken to give a proper response, so Hermione turned to Harry instead. "You never told us how Occlumency went with Dumbledore last night, Harry."

Harry had been about to take another drink of juice, but instead he now set the goblet back down on the table. He really hadn't had much time today to think about what had happened last night, or to consider how he was going to keep it from happening again tonight. Harry glanced up at the staff table. Dumbledore was getting up to leave. Harry swallowed loudly; Hermione and Ron were both looking at him expectantly.

"Oh, you know .... it went okay," Harry said, avoiding their eyes. Hermione frowned at him as if she knew he was hiding something, but Ron said, "Well, I knew it would go better with Dumbledore. Snape's such a stupid git." he added, lowering his voice.

Snape was now leaving the staff table as well. Hermione gave Ron a severe look. "You know Snape is on our side, Ron," but when she saw Harry's furious expression, Hermione added in an undertone, "I'm not saying that I like him, or that he isn't just plain mean at times, it's just...."

"I _hate_ him," Harry interjected with such vehemence that Hermione was taken aback. Even Ron looked a little surprised. Harry still blamed Snape for ignoring his plea in Umbridge's office, even though Dumbledore had said Snape had notified the Order immediately about what was going on. Harry looked at his watch and hastily got up from the table.

"I've got to go," he said, shortly. Harry ignored Ron and Hermione's wide-eyed expressions as he left the Great Hall heading for Dumbledore's office again.

Upon reaching Dumbledore's office, Harry was so busy thinking of horrible things to do to Snape that he almost forgot to knock. When he went to reach for the griffin-shaped knocker, however, he realized that Dumbledore was talking to someone inside. Harry hesitated, listening.

"Honestly, Headmaster," said a menacing, calculated voice, "Do you really think Potter stands a chance against the Dark Lord?" It was Snape.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, warningly. "Harry Potter is our only hope as you well know, but right now he is in terrible danger. I must help him; we all must."

Harry waited a moment then rapped loudly on the door. Everything fell silent inside. When Snape saw Harry he narrowed his dark eyes at him.

"Harry, please come in," Dumbledore ushered him in. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," said Harry, trying to stifle the angry feelings of resentment at what he had just heard as Snape stared at him with every sign of great loathing. Harry stared right back.

"If you are finished, Severus," Dumbledore said, pointedly.

"Of course, Headmaster," Snape slinked out of the room.

Harry's hands had balled up into fists without his realizing it. When Dumbledore asked him if he was ready, Harry took a deep breath and tried to relax again. When Dumbledore told Harry to empty his mind of all thought and emotion once more, Harry nodded, but he was finding that hard to do at the moment. Harry didn't want to disappoint Dumbledore, though, so he tried to ignore the bitter feelings welling up inside of him.

"Ready," Dumbledore said, "One ... two ... three ... _Legilimens_!"

Harry was still too angry to concentrate on building his barrier properly. Next thing he knew .... he was looking down at his hands, his fingers were long and white like pale spiders .... then, he was telling the snake Nagini that she could eat Harry Potter, his voice coming out in a strange hiss .... then, he was a huge snake viciously biting into a sleepy Mr. Weasley, blood gushed out of his side as Mr. Weasley screamed in pain ...

Harry opened his stinging eyes and saw Dumbledore floating above him again.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, as if from a long way off. "Harry ...." Dumbledore said again, sounding worried.

Harry sat up, then took a sharp intake of breath as Dumbledore's office spun around him violently. Harry sat holding his aching head in his hands and tried very hard not to vomit all over his headmaster. After a few touch and go moments, the room finally stopped spinning. Dumbledore was watching him carefully.

"Sorry," Harry said, trying to get off the floor.

Dumbledore helped him into the same cushioned chair. "Am I right in assuming that your mind was not quite empty of thought and emotion tonight, Harry?" he asked, quietly.

"Well ...." Harry mumbled, slightly shamefaced. "I .... yes, sir."

"You should not be ashamed of the emotion itself, Harry. But to practice successful Occlumency, you must have a clear mind." Dumbledore admonished, gently. As the whirring instruments around Dumbledore's office puffed and clicked on their spindly tables, Harry slowly began to feel better.

"Can we try again, sir?" he asked.

"First, I must ask you something, Harry. Every time that you have had these flashes of memory or dreams it has caused you to have pain in your scar, correct?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered, wondering where this was going.

"And you told me back at headquarters that the pain was worse than before," Dumbledore continued.

"Yes," Harry answered, again.

"Was it worse tonight than it was last night?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry stopped to think a moment. "Actually, Professor, I think it's getting worse each time it happens." Harry paused, then he looked questioningly at Dumbledore, "Why is that?"

"No one can really be sure, Harry," Dumbledore replied, pensively.

But Harry pushed him; he wanted answers, "Professor, please. I _need_ to know. What do you think is happening?"

Dumbledore sighed, slowly he looked into Harry's eyes. "Know this Harry, I cannot be sure of anything. I am going to be completely honest with you. We are dealing with an unknown quantity here. No one has ever dealt with this kind of connection between two wizards before." Harry watched as Dumbledore slowly took a seat across from him again. "I believe, however, that this increase in intensity that you are feeling from these flashes may be related to the prophecy."

"The prophecy?" Harry repeated, confused.

"Yes. You may remember that it states that 'either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.' That is why you survived when he possessed you last June, Harry. I believe that neither of you can stand to be around the other without certain consequences." Dumbledore continued. "For you it is pain and sickness, for Voldemort, I am not sure. Suffice it to say that I believe the prophecy _is_ being fulfilled."

Dumbledore then sat quietly, apparently lost in thought. Harry sat very still. He thought about how he had felt every time he had had any contact with Voldemort. It was definitely getting worse. With each encounter it was now becoming very difficult for Harry to function because of the amount of pain he was in. But Voldemort didn't seem to be affected at all. Other than not being able to stay in possession of Harry for very long in the Ministry of Magic, Voldemort seemed perfectly capable of doing whatever he wanted. Harry had come to an inescapable conclusion.

"He's going to kill me, then .... Isn't he, Professor." Harry said, it was not a question. Dumbledore had been looking at Harry when he had said this. His normally calm blue gaze was shadowed with fear, the usual twinkle in his eyes completely gone. Harry could see it in Dumbledore's ancient face, that was exactly what his headmaster was afraid of.

"I do not know, Harry," he said, finally, looking away. They both sat silently for some time, neither of them willing to speak. Finally, however, Dumbledore seemed to shake himself out of his reverie; his deeply lined face seemed to gather strength and tenacity, and when he looked at Harry again there was a powerful fire in his eyes.

"NO!" Dumbledore said suddenly, standing up and slamming his fist upon his desk, causing Harry to jump. "I refuse to let that happen!" Dumbledore said firmly, almost angrily.

"Get up, Harry," he ordered. Harry stood. "Now, we are NOT going to let Voldemort win. You are going to defeat him, and I am going to help you in every way I possibly can." Dumbledore said, fiercely. Harry had rarely seen Dumbledore this way, but it inspired him to tackle what lay ahead.

"We will succeed in this, Harry, we must." he said, and Harry felt a surge of determination that could not be broken. "I will count to three again. One ... two ... three ... _Legilimens_!"

This time it was different. This time when Harry built the barriers up in his mind, they were five times thicker than before. Harry pictured the spell hitting the barrier, but instead of penetrating it, it was stopped and reduced to smoke. Dumbledore tried it again, and again Harry was able to stop it. On Dumbledore's third attempt, Harry didn't even let the spell get anywhere near his mind; he stopped it from a distance and it dissolved into nothing.

Harry's mind was reeling; he finally knew what to do. He felt more powerful than he had ever felt before. He actually jumped in the air whooping with delight at his success.   
"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore cheered. "I knew you could do it!" The widest smile Harry could ever remember Dumbledore wearing was across his face as he looked at Harry, beaming with pride.

Harry left Dumbledore feeling more confident than he could ever remember feeling before. That night as he tiptoed past the sleeping Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus and into his own four-poster, Harry smiled to himself. Harry felt an emotion that he hadn't felt since he had lost Sirius last June. _Hope._


	6. The Dream

**_Author's notes: _**

**_QueenWeasel & MinorMistake99 - Thanks so much for your continued reading and reviews!!! I will continue to try to post daily or at least every other day, if possible. :  )_**

**CHAPTER SIX - THE DREAM**

Due to a strange confluence of events, Harry had still not heard anything about who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was going to be. Ron and Hermione had told Harry that Dumbledore did not announce who it would be at the welcoming feast, only that that person would arrive later on that week. It was now Wednesday night and as Harry, Ron, and Hermione ate their dinner, Harry found himself wondering who was going to greet them the next morning in their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson of the year. Harry hoped whoever was supposed to be taking the position for Dumbledore wasn't going to back out at the last moment.

Suddenly the large doors to the Great Hall opened and someone came in. Harry wasn't able at first to see who it was as a group of giggling second year Ravenclaw girls were walking in front of him, obstructing his view. There was also the general commotion of various students walking over to see friends in other houses, and many didn't initially pay any attention to who was entering the room. As the person entered and began making his way to the front, however, silence slowly crept across the dining hall. The man had grizzled gray hair, a wooden leg that ended in a clawed foot, a severely scarred face, and a magical electric blue eye that was swiveling in all directions, including out of the back of his own head.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all seen who it was at the same time. "Mad-Eye Moody," they all exclaimed in surprised unison. Moody made his way between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables carefully looking all around him as he went. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched, Moody slowly limped towards them. As Moody came nearer, Harry noticed that his normal beady eye was on him while the magical eye still swiveled wildly about the hall.

"All right, Potter?" Moody asked Harry in his gravelly voice, as he leaned slightly on his heavy wooden cane.

"All right, sir," Harry responded, a bit dumbfounded.

"Sir," Hermione spoke up, finding her voice again, "what are you doing here?"

"Teaching." Moody said simply. "Thought I'd make good on my original offer after all. Besides, you can never have too many eyes out."

Moody's magical eye swirled around almost non-stop as he had said this. Harry forced himself to look away from it; it was rather nauseating to watch. As Moody moved away to go sit with Dumbledore at the staff table, he kept glancing back toward Harry. Moody had always appeared to be somewhat paranoid, but Harry found himself wondering if Moody had actually come to Hogwarts to keep an eye on him, personally. Harry had been followed all last year by the Order, without his prior knowledge or consent. Harry tried to push away the bitter feelings that that memory had just inspired in him as he focused once more on the staff table. Dumbledore stood and began tapping a wineglass at the front. Everyone became quiet.

"I would like to introduce you all to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Alastor Moody." Dumbledore announced.

Almost all of the older students clapped their hands enthusiastically. Moody, though known for being a paranoid eccentric outside of Hogwarts, was still rather idolized inside it. Two years before, Moody had also been scheduled to teach at Hogwarts, and although that Moody had been an imposter, he had made quite an impression nevertheless. The younger students, however, were looking at Moody with mingled expressions of fear and revulsion. The missing chunk out of his nose, his wooden leg, and his deeply scarred face did look rather threatening, but Harry knew that Moody, while a bit odd, was a very good person at heart.

A vivid image of a bouncing white ferret that had just a moment before been Draco Malfoy suddenly sprung into Harry's mind. He snickered to himself at the thought. Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table where Malfoy normally held court. Malfoy was staring at Moody with his mouth slightly open; a faint greenish tinge was now crawling up his small pointed face. Harry elbowed Ron who then nudged Hermione as he nodded at Malfoy, Harry's face breaking into a satisfied grin. Malfoy seemed to be sinking lower into his seat as Moody surveyed the students in the Great Hall. A few minutes later as the students were finishing dinner and heading back to their common rooms, Moody and Dumbledore still sat with their heads together conversing intently in the middle of the staff table. Snape was down at one end of the table; his face twisted into an ugly sneer. Apparently Moody's return to Hogwarts wasn't something that Snape relished any more than Malfoy did. Snape left very shortly thereafter.

Ron leaned over to Harry and whispered excitedly, "Do you think the real Moody will teach us the same way the fake Moody did?" Harry shrugged, wondering. The fake Moody who had taught them two years ago had actually been Barty Crouch, Jr., a Death Eater under Voldemort's orders. He had pretended to help Harry through the Triwizard Tournament during his fourth year, so that he could essentially kidnap Harry and deliver him directly into Voldemort's hands.

Out of nowhere, Harry took a deep intake of breath as his scar flared in a sudden stabbing pain. Harry was suddenly struck by the vivid memories of that horrific night. It was almost as if a dementor had glided up behind him, sucking the life out of the room. In his mind, Harry heard a cold rasping laugh and he immediately jerked around looking behind him, expecting to see the glowing red eyes and white snake-like face staring back at him. Voldemort was nowhere to be seen, but Harry continued to feel on edge and paranoid; he felt terribly cold and unsettled, the warmth of the Great Hall had suddenly gone. Harry shivered as the images seemed to force themselves unbidden into his mind. He saw the circle of masked Death Eaters surrounding him, and then remembered the excruciating pain as Voldemort had used the Cruciatus Curse on him again and again while he was still tied helplessly to the tombstone of Voldemort's Muggle father.

Harry's scar now stung even more sharply; he felt the same horribly trapped feeling that he had felt in the graveyard, even though at the moment he was now safe and surrounded by friends. All of the sudden Harry felt constricted, like he was suffocating. Harry's pulse was racing and his stomach began to turn and rumble with nausea; he pushed his dinner plate abruptly away. Harry clamped his mouth shut and shook his head as he got up quickly from the table, disoriented. He felt this intense desire to escape, to run from here as fast as his legs could carry him. Harry was suddenly feeling profoundly claustrophobic, even though the Great Hall was a huge room.

"Harry ..." Hermione said, inquiringly, looking up at him nervously. She had noticed the suddenly panicked look on Harry's face as he had jumped up from the table. Ron was also staring at Harry disconcertedly. Apparently he had noticed, too.

"I ... er," Harry stammered hastily, "I forgot something, I've got to go ..."

Harry walked quickly to the door, then upon reaching the hallway ran full out down a corridor on the first floor and hid in one of the secret passageways behind a large tapestry. Harry felt panicked and almost feverish. His heart was beating violently against his chest as he sat on the cold stone floor, trying to calm down. Harry wasn't sure of what was happening to him; he felt as though he was going mad. Harry rubbed his forehead furiously, feeling completely unhinged.

Harry sat there with his head in his hands feeling worse and worse as his scar throbbed more and more insistently. Finally, Harry had a sudden idea. Harry began putting up the strong shielded barrier in his mind, just like he had during his Occlumency lessons with Dumbledore. The stinging ache in his scar began to dissipate and then finally disappear. He felt achy all over now, almost as though he'd just recovered from a terrifying new illness. After gathering his wits for a moment, Harry got up and strode directly to Dumbledore's office. He knew that Dumbledore was still probably in the dining hall with Moody, but he decided that he would wait for him in his office anyway. Dumbledore had told Harry that he wanted to know if these Voldemort-related flashes occurred again. As Harry sprinted into the corridor of Dumbledore's office, however, he suddenly saw him coming around the corner.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry called breathlessly, "I need to speak with you."

"By all means, Harry," Dumbledore responded, seeing the alarmed look on Harry's face. Dumbledore's long stride caught up to Harry's easily.  "Come in," Dumbledore said.

Harry eagerly followed his headmaster into his office as the portraits of the previous headmasters continued to doze in their frames. Harry knew that the portraits were not really asleep, but at that moment he had more important matters on his mind. In the aftermath of the attack, Harry's movements were still a bit jerky; he felt antsy and unwell.

"Sir," Harry began, sitting in the chair Dumbledore had offered him. "I think Voldemort may be up to something again..." Dumbledore looked at him inscrutably for a second, but then he quickly locked his eyes onto Harry's face.

"Sorry," Harry said, suddenly feeling a bit foolish for panicking like he had. "I was sitting eating dinner just a few minutes ago when something, well, strange happened. My scar hurt and I felt like I needed to get away and hide or something." Harry realized that this must sound like complete nonsense to Dumbledore and he looked away, focusing on Fawkes' golden perch, which was softly reflecting the flames of Dumbledore's fireplace. Taking a deep calming breath, Harry continued, wanting his headmaster to understand. "I felt like I was back in that graveyard with Voldemort again, Professor ... I even thought for a moment that he had come up right behind me in the Great Hall. I think he forced those images into my mind again." Harry looked at his hands and saw that they were still clammy and trembling; to hide this, he shoved them hastily into the pockets of his robes. After a moment Harry felt calm enough to continue.

"I was finally able to make it stop by building that barrier in my mind, like you taught me, Professor." Harry finished, as he finally set his eyes upon his headmaster's face again.

"Building the barrier _did _stop the attack?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes, sir. I still feel a little shaky now, but my scar doesn't hurt anymore." Harry answered, feeling relieved. Dumbledore seemed to understand.

Dumbledore was looking into Harry's bright green eyes with a look of concern mixed with pride. "It sounds as though Voldemort was indeed trying to break into your mind again just now, Harry. However, you have succeeded on your own in stopping him. I think that is certainly a step in the right direction." Dumbledore said slowly, a slight smile on his ancient face. Harry felt a bit surprised; it hadn't really sunk in yet that he had just repelled Voldemort's attack on his mind without help. Harry smiled, too.

"I hadn't thought of that, I guess, Professor."

"Harry, you have just demonstrated in a real situation that you are quite able to defend yourself against these attacks. You are doing even better than I had hoped." Dumbledore said, looking proudly at Harry. Then Dumbledore sighed and pulled out of his midnight blue robes a brass pocket watch with twelve hands on it. "It is getting late, Harry. Perhaps you should go to bed."

Harry nodded, feeling significantly better than he had just a few moments before. As Harry started to rise from the deeply cushioned chair, he said, "Thank you, Professor," and turned to leave. When Harry reached the door, however, Dumbledore spoke again, "Harry, I want you to know that you can always come to me if you need me ... anytime, day or night." Dumbledore's eyes had a faintly paternal look about them as he had said this. Harry felt extremely grateful to his headmaster; he even felt a rekindling of the bond that they had once shared before last year. "Thank you, sir," Harry said again, as he softly closed the door.

-------------------------

When Harry reached his dormitory Ron was waiting up for him; he looked worried. "Harry, are you okay?" Ron asked, a bit hesitantly. Ron was looking at Harry with his brow furrowed anxiously. Like Hermione, Ron had also noticed Harry's frantic departure from the Great Hall, even though Harry had tried to disguise how terrified he had actually been feeling at the time.

"I just forgot something, that's all. Everything's fine." Harry repeated lightly, trying to allay his friend's fear. Harry knew Ron and Hermione were still worried about him, and he didn't want to give them anything new to worry about. Ron was still frowning at him, looking incredulous.

"I'm fine, really," Harry said confidently, not wanting to tell Ron that Voldemort had just attacked his mind again. Ron still didn't look completely convinced, but he apparently decided to drop the subject and started getting ready for bed. As Harry did the same, he realized that he had accomplished something significant that day. Keeping Voldemort out of his mind today meant that he could hopefully deal with these kind of incidents more effectively in the future. Harry felt greatly comforted by that possibility. Harry then carefully created the barrier in his mind again before he nodded off to sleep.

_Harry found himself walking along the large lake that surrounded Hogwart's Castle in the bright sunshine. The water was shimmering a brilliant crystal blue and the sky was turquoise with several white puffy cotton-like clouds. As he strolled along the emerald green lawn, Harry saw something on the ground. He bent down to pick it up and discovered that it was Sirius' mirror. The mirror was no longer broken, but complete and whole as Harry looked into it at his own reflection._

_As Harry wiped it off, he felt strangely excited. On a wild impulse he looked into the mirror and said the name, "Sirius Black." Suddenly, Sirius' face actually appeared in the mirror's smooth silver surface. "Sirius!" Harry exclaimed, shocked to see his godfather again. Sirius looked much like he had when he had been hiding in various tropical locations on the run from the Ministry during Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts. Sirius' hair was short and glossy, his face had a slight tan, and his eyes were vivacious and alive again; not even remotely haggard or haunted as they had been before he had died._

_"How are you, Harry?" Sirius asked, a wide smile brightening his still youthful face._

_But Harry then realized that the voice had not come from the mirror. Harry turned around with lightning speed and came face to face once again with his godfather. _

_"SIRIUS!" Harry cried, and grabbed Sirius into a tight hug. Harry found that he was smiling so widely that his cheeks actually hurt. "Where have you been, Sirius? I've been so desperate to see you... to talk to you ... to tell you..." Harry stammered, talking so fast that he was tripping over the words, as he held Sirius at arms-length unwilling to actually let go of him._

_"You know where I've been, Harry." Sirius answered somewhat enigmatically, looking piercingly into Harry's face. Then Sirius said softly, "I just wanted to check on you. I wanted to make sure that you're handling this okay."_

_"I ..." Harry looked into Sirius' handsome face and he felt something painful give way in his chest. "Sirius ..." Harry tried to say how much he had missed him, tried to tell Sirius how much he needed him here, but instead he found himself staring into his godfather's face at a complete loss for words. Tears then began to blur Harry's vision and slide down his face; Harry found himself unable to move or breathe or to tear his eyes away from his godfather's face. _

_Sirius seemed to understand without Harry uttering a single word, however, as he embraced Harry once more. "It really is going to be all right, Harry. This pain will lessen over time. I know that it's overwhelming right now, but you will be able to get past this," Sirius told him quietly. Sirius led Harry to a nearby tree stump and carefully sat him down upon it. Sirius then kneeled in front of Harry and gently wiped Harry's face with his hand while looking up into Harry's bright grief-stricken eyes. _

_After a moment, Sirius spoke again. "Harry, I wanted you to know that we will be together again someday. I wanted to give you some comfort because I know how truly difficult this must be for you. I will never be where your heart can't find me." Sirius said, as he placed his other hand on Harry's chest. Sirius' gray eyes looked into Harry's intently, trying to ease his sorrow. "I just wanted to reassure you that you're stronger than you think you are right now. Eventually, Harry, you will be able get over this, you'll be able to move on."_

_Sirius was speaking quietly and Harry focused solely on the sound of his godfather's voice. "I didn't want to leave you, Harry, but this was never your fault. You have to stop blaming yourself for this." At these words Harry looked down despondently, and a small audible sob escaped him as the tears continued to pour unceasingly down his cheeks. The intense pain and guilt were completely overwhelming him again. Sirius didn't understand; Harry knew it was all his fault. Harry tried to tell Sirius how sorry he was, but he was falling apart. _

_"No, Harry," Sirius said softly, as though reading Harry's thoughts, "This is not your fault, it just happened....." Sirius paused, waiting for Harry's sobs to die down again. "Listen, I want you to promise me something. I want you to go on with your life, Harry. You have to." As Harry slowly met his godfather's eyes again, Sirius whispered, "You can do it, Harry, I know you can."_

_"Okay," Harry whispered after a moment, in a small anguished voice. Sirius grasped Harry's shoulder warmly and then began to stand. "Take care of yourself, Harry. Don't forget what I've told you," Sirius smiled at Harry gently again, and then like a wisp of smoke was gone._

"Wait," Harry called out, desperately. Harry awoke suddenly to find himself in his very dark dormitory again. The hearth fire had gone out and rain was lashing at the windows. Harry heard the soft deep breathing coming from his fellow Gryffindors and knew that they were all still asleep. Sirius was gone, now. Harry had felt his presence so strongly. It had felt just like Sirius had really been physically there with him, trying to provide comfort and strength when Harry had needed it most.

Long moments of time passed unnoticed as Harry sat up thinking about his godfather. As Harry dwelled on the memory of Sirius' face and voice a deep abiding sorrow engulfed him once more. Eventually, though, Harry dried his eyes, then lay back down again under the canopy of his four poster bed. As Harry drifted off once more, a small part of him began to realize deep down that maybe eventually things might actually be okay again; that eventually _he _might even be okay again.

------------------------

Harry woke the next morning to hear Ron, Neville, Dean, and Seamus discussing their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Mad-Eye Moody.

"Do you think he'll teach us any new stuff?" Dean asked.

"I hope so," said Seamus. "I only got to be in that one D.A. meeting last year with Harry, and I wanted another go at Patronuses."

"I hope we get to practice dueling." Neville put in.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, frowning rather glumly, "With things the way they are we need all the defense lessons we can get."

Neville was the first to notice that Harry was awake as he discreetly pushed his glasses back on his face. "What do you think Professor Moody will teach us, Harry? Do you think it will be like the D.A. meetings you gave us last year?" Neville asked him.

"Maybe," Harry said noncommittally, glancing rather pointedly at Ron. While the other boys knew that Moody had once been an Auror, none of them knew the whole story behind what Moody was doing now. Harry and Ron couldn't openly disclose what they really knew about Moody. Neville, Dean, and Seamus had no knowledge about the Order or Moody's involvement in it as one of its members.

"I'm sure it'll be interesting," Ron said, quickly. "Hey, I don't know about you lot, but I'm hungry. Let's go," he said, deftly changing the topic of the conversation. Ron seemed to notice that Harry was being a bit too quiet; he also noticed the fact that Harry's face was rather swollen and somber. "Hungry, Harry?" Ron asked, cautiously.

"I'll be down in a bit," Harry said, trying to appear normal but failing rather miserably. Ron hesitated, but apparently thought Harry might want to be alone, and followed Neville, Dean, and Seamus out the door.

Once everyone had left to go downstairs, Harry sat back down on his bed still in his pajamas. His mind was still down on the grounds with his godfather. The whole dream had felt so completely real that Harry still felt as though Sirius had actually come to see him last night. Harry slowly got up and padded barefoot over to the blown glass window that overlooked the vast Hogwarts grounds. He could see the very place that he had been with Sirius in his dream.

Harry began thinking of what Sirius had told him; he still couldn't quite accept that there would ever really be a time when he would be able to move past this intense sadness. As Harry changed into his robes, however, he remembered the way Sirius had looked; happy, healthy, and content. Sirius had said that he would never be where Harry's heart couldn't find him. Harry carried that comforting thought inside himself like a powerful beacon as he finally headed downstairs.


	7. May I Present the Real Professor Moody

_**Author's Note: Here's Chapter Seven - I hope you enjoy it!**_

**_QueenWeasel - I'm glad you liked the dream. I thought Harry could use something comforting after everything he's been through._**

**_MinorMistake99 - In reference to your question about Crabbe and Goyle - they were sorted with Malfoy into Slytherin and so are also in sixth year along with Harry. Also, thanks for the comment on Harry and Dumbledore's new relationship. Harry really needs an adult now that Sirius is gone, and I wanted him to have someone at Hogwarts if he needed them._**

**CHAPTER SEVEN - MAY I PRESENT THE REAL PROFESSOR MOODY**

As Harry found himself sitting in the second row together with Ron and Hermione later - after their last experience in Moody's classroom they felt it safer to not sit right up front - he looked at Mad-Eye Moody standing there and felt a distinct sense of deja-vu. Two years before, he, Ron, and Hermione had sat in this very same classroom believing that they were being taught by the real Mad-Eye Moody, a retired Auror and trusted confidant of Albus Dumbledore. As the events of that year had played out, however, the real Moody had been discovered kidnapped, drugged, and locked in his own trunk by an imposter.

It was still raining outside now as Moody checked attendance. Harry found himself becoming more and more curious about what they would actually be taught by the authentic Professor Moody. Moody at last looked up at the class, his magical eye inspecting each student carefully.

"My name is Alastor Moody," he began in his rough voice. "A few of you may know who I am," his magical eye zeroed in on Harry, Ron, and Hermione, "But most of you have only met that _imposter_." Moody's mangled face twisted sinisterly as he had said the word "imposter." "Just know that that wasn't me! I know you've been taught by many different teachers," Moody's mutilated face grinned slightly at Harry as he had said this, "And I plan to bring all of that knowledge together and take you to the next step. This is an advanced class, so those of you who are here should already know to take this very seriously. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is back, along with loads of his followers so unceasing vigilance is the key. Today I want to see what you already know, so pair up on that side of the room, now."

As the students paired up and began practicing, Harry felt a surge of pride as everyone in the room executed all of their defense spells flawlessly. Even Moody looked impressed.

"Well, obviously at some point you have all had a very competent teacher," Moody said, as he actually reached over and put a gnarled hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry looked up and saw that everyone there, all former members of the D.A., were beaming happily at him; Ron and Hermione's smiles were especially wide. Harry felt himself blush as he gave a small grin of his own.

------------------

Later at lunch a very wet and bedraggled-looking brown owl came swooping in, homing in on Hermione with a plastic covered rolled-up parcel. As Hermione put knuts into the small pouch attached to its other leg, Ron asked her what she had received.

"Oh, it's just the _Daily Prophet_. I guess it's late due to the nasty weather," she said, unfurling it and shaking off excess water. Harry had been so preoccupied by his feelings over Sirius that he still hadn't thought to re-subscribe. Harry was just getting ready to ask if he could see it when she was finished, when Hermione gasped. "Look!" she said, as she pushed the paper towards Harry and Ron.

_DEATH EATERS BREAK OUT OF AZKABAN PRISON AND RETURN TO HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED _

_A spokeswizard speaking for Azkaban Prison has finally confirmed that the rumors of a breakout occurring last July are true. Witnesses have now come forward with new information about the mass escape from Azkaban of these known Death Eaters pictured below. These particular Death Eaters had just been captured last June. Ministry insiders from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement provided the identities of these fugitives, all of whom have been determined to be confirmed followers of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Madam Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, disclosed that security has now been tripled at Azkaban Prison and steps are being taken to recapture these highly dangerous fugitives._

_CORNELIUS FUDGE AND AIDE LEAVE IN DISGRACE_

_After numerous allegations of corruption at the Ministry of Magic, Cornelius Fudge was forced to step down as Minister of Magic this morning. A very harassed-looking Fudge was seen vacating the Ministry of Magic headquarters today, followed by his former Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, Dolores Umbridge. Fudge and Umbridge angrily refused to comment when the press attempted to question them after their dismissal. A new Minister of Magic is to be appointed next week according to Ministry insiders._

"Well, that confirms it, Harry," Hermione said, as Harry and Ron finished reading the front page. "You were right. Those Death Eaters did escape last summer."

Harry nodded, grimly. Just like last year, the pictures of the escaped prisoners were now illustrating the front page, Lucius Malfoy among them. Ron looked down agitatedly at the sneering photographs and said, "Blimey, Harry, you're always right."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked anxiously at each other for a moment before glancing up at the staff table. Dumbledore, Moody, and McGonagall were all talking together in a tight knot off to the side as the other teachers read the _Daily Prophet_ in small groups. As Harry had glanced at the staff table, he thought that Snape had been looking at him, but when Harry's eyes had actually fallen upon him, Snape was looking in another direction. Harry then looked over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting there looking highly pleased with himself. Harry's insides went cold as he watched Malfoy gloating next to Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson; Harry looked away again, almost feeling ill.

That afternoon as he, Ron, and Hermione were coming back tired and dirty from the Herbology greenhouses, Harry again noticed the spot on the grounds where Sirius had come to him in his dream. Absorbed in the memory of the dream, Harry changed direction and strode directly to the spot. Ron and Hermione had been talking together a few steps ahead and were caught unaware by Harry's sudden departure.

"That fanged geranium really did have pretty blooms, though," Hermione was saying.

"Fanged geranium? Hermione, are you mad?" Ron asked, incredulously.

"What? I thought it was lovely." Hermione insisted.

"Hermione, why would you want a flower that can bite, even if it is pretty?" Ron argued, "What bloke would get his girl a plant that could hurt her? He'd have to be either a real prat or completely mental." Ron turned towards her, expecting her to continue arguing with him as usual.

But Hermione instead of arguing back, stopped quickly and looked up at Ron with an oddly misty expression of surprise on her face. "Oh, Ron, that's really so thoughtful of you," she said smiling, her brown eyes focusing up on his face warmly.

Apparently Hermione's tone of voice caught Ron a bit off-guard, and as she continued to smile at him affectionately, Ron blushed and looked shyly away from her. When he did, Ron noticed that Harry was no longer with them.

"Hey, where'd Harry go?" Ron asked.

"Oh," said Hermione, looking around. Apparently she had not noticed, either.

They turned back and saw Harry inspecting a patch of ground by the lake. Harry seemed to be completely preoccupied, and when Hermione reached out and touched his shoulder, Harry actually jumped.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, Harry," she said.

"Yeah, mate, we were just wondering where you'd gone." Ron said. Harry was looking at them somewhat blankly, almost as though he wasn't sure of who they were for a moment.

"Did you lose something?" Hermione asked.

"No, why?" Harry said, much too quickly.

"Well, you were looking in the grass like you had dropped something." Hermione answered, surprised at Harry's sudden jumpiness and anxious reaction to her.

"No. No, I was just ... let's go back inside," Harry said hastily. Harry hadn't told Ron and Hermione about his dream and he wasn't sure that he ever would. Harry felt that some things were just better kept to himself and that this was one of them. Ron and Hermione hastened their steps to catch up to Harry, giving him a searching look as they followed him into the castle.

Later Harry still remained quiet and circumspect as they sat down to dinner. Ron and Hermione noticed as they sat across from Harry that he was playing idly with his food instead of actually eating any of it. As the students slowly cleared out of the dining hall Hermione spoke up tentatively.

"Harry ... _Harry, _you seem to be a million miles away. Are you quite all right?" Hermione asked, finally getting Harry's attention.

"Huh?" Harry mumbled at first, "Yeah, I'm okay."

Harry had been completely distracted and distant ever since they had come back from the lake a short while before. Harry pulled himself rather sluggishly out of his reverie and looked over at Ron and Hermione. They were sitting very close together on the bench, their shoulders touching. It was as if their close proximity to each other was providing comfort on some unknown level, they didn't seem to be aware of it outwardly. Harry noticed that Ron and Hermione's faces were each mirroring looks of anxious concern as they stared back at him from across the table. Harry realized that he was doing it again; he was shutting them out. Harry looked down at his uneaten dinner and then around at the almost empty dining hall.

"Look, guys," Harry said quietly, even though no one was nearby, "I just need some space sometimes ... you know?" Ron and Hermione seemed to relax ever so slightly.

"You do know we'll do anything we can to help you, Harry." Hermione responded, speaking carefully. She and Ron were looking at Harry cautiously; it was almost as if they knew that something had happened and that he was purposely holding it back from them. After Hermione had spoken, Ron nodded in full agreement. Ron knew Hermione was better at expressing things than he was, though he was not planning to admit that to her anytime soon. Harry sighed darkly, nodding mutely. He knew that they didn't really understand just how horrible he felt right now, no one did. Harry wondered whether this dark cloud of sorrow would ever lift from him entirely as the three of them left and slowly headed back up to Gryffindor tower.

----------------

The following Monday as Harry, Ron, and Hermione were eating breakfast, an owl once again dispatched a new copy of the _Daily Prophet_ onto Hermione's plate, almost spilling Ron's orange juice onto her eggs and toast in the process.

"Bloody Hell!" Ron cursed angrily, as the owl flew towards the enchanted ceiling once more.

Hermione was quite used to Ron's bad morning temper, so she just ignored him as she opened the paper. Ginny was sitting on the other side of Harry with Dean Thomas. They had began going out at the end of last term.

"Oh my," Hermione said, reading the front page aloud so that Harry, Ron, and Ginny could hear. "Listen to this. New Minister of Magic Confirmed. Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt was today appointed as the new Minister of Magic by the Wizengamot after the former Minister, Cornelius Fudge, left last week. Kingsley Shacklebolt has been an Auror for thirty years and has been involved in the capture of many fugitives, including Death Eaters." Hermione continued reading. "Kingsley's first act of office was to repeal any and all educational decrees made by the former Minister of Magic or his Senior Undersecretary during the last school year at Hogwarts. 'The current headmaster is the only one who has the authority or knowledge necessary to dictate what happens at his school.' Shacklebolt stated. 'Albus Dumbledore is quite capable of managing Hogwarts, as he has proven time and again over his many years as headmaster.'"

"Shacklebolt also released publicly information vital to current escaped Death Eaters and the tracking and possible whereabouts of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 'Investigations are ongoing in relation to current Death Eater activity,' Shacklebolt continued. 'The identities of these Death Eaters have been well established and documented. However, one fugitive wanted by the Ministry has now been cleared of all charges. Sirius Black, who escaped from Azkaban Prison three years ago, has been personally vouched for by Albus Dumbledore as being in no way a supporter of He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named or his associates at any time. I regret to say that Black must be cleared posthumously, as he died while fighting against Death Eaters this past June. I announce this information primarily to put his name once again in good stead and also as a comfort for the family and friends that Sirius has left behind.'" Hermione finished, rather breathlessly.

Dean had been busy buttering a muffin and had not really listened as Hermione had been reading. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny, however, had their eyes glued to Harry. Harry felt himself go white. He had only spoken very intermittently to anyone about Sirius since this summer, and hearing Sirius' death brought up in this very public forum had taken him completely aback. Harry sat there numbly for a moment as he tried to take it all in.

Unexpectedly, Ginny leaned over to Harry and placed her hand on his arm as she repeated softly, "As a _comfort_ for the family Sirius has left behind, Harry." Then Ginny squeezed Harry's arm gently and gazed at him for a moment, a comforting smile playing across her delicate features. For some reason, Harry felt incredibly strengthened by this simple gesture of Ginny's. He smiled back at her as she released his arm and turned her attention back to Dean, who had begun trading chocolate frog cards with Seamus, completely oblivious.

Ron and Hermione were still staring at Harry. Ron had a slightly surprised look of dawning comprehension at what had just transpired between Harry and Ginny. Hermione, however, didn't seemed surprised at all. She simply smiled almost knowingly and turned again to Ron.

"Are you finished then, Ron?" she asked, abruptly taking Ron's attention away from Harry, who had turned to look at Ginny again.

"What ... Oh, I suppose," Ron said, as he asked Harry the same question. Harry nodded and began to get up from the table distractedly. As the three of them walked to the door of the dining hall, Harry turned back on an impulse and looked at the Gryffindor table again. Ginny was still seated by Dean and Seamus, but her face was turned towards the door watching Harry. When he caught her eye, she gave him a gentle smile before turning back to the card game.


	8. Gryffindor vs Slytherin

**_Author's Note: Here's a quidditch chapter, hope you like it!_**

**CHAPTER EIGHT - GRYFFINDOR VS. SLYTHERIN**

As September flowed into October, the weather became crisp and cool. Quidditch season had now arrived. Quidditch tryouts had been held the previous week and Gryffindor's new captain, Katie Bell, had demonstrated that she could lead the team with quiet effectiveness. There had been quite a few changes in the team roster since last year's struggle with Dolores Umbridge. First, Harry had been fully reinstated as seeker, which was a great relief to him and everyone else on the team. Ginny had tried out for one of the chaser positions now open, and had turned out to be completely brilliant at it. Ron had proven himself as keeper by helping the team win the quidditch cup last year. Harry felt that Ron's performance was almost unrecognizable when compared to his shaky goal-keeping failures from early on last year. As they got ready to face the first game of the season against Slytherin, Ron's confidence seemed strong and unshakable.

Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke made the team again as beaters. Their playing was nowhere near as good as Fred and George's had been, but they had continued to improve since the boost from last year's successful quidditch final. The only brand new player was a chaser by the name of Duncan Morey. Duncan was a year younger than Ginny, and Harry could only remember seeing him in passing. Duncan had dark blond hair, acne on his chin, and his eyes had a slightly crossed look about them, but as a chaser he rarely missed a pass or a goal during practices.

Harry felt almost giddy during Gryffindor's first quidditch practice. He hadn't been able to fly on his Firebolt for almost a whole year because of Umbridge's ban, but as Harry mounted his Firebolt again that first day of practice with the new team, Harry felt an incredible sense of freedom wash over him. Quidditch was the one thing in the wizarding world that Harry hadn't had to struggle to learn or understand. Flying on a broomstick had felt as natural to Harry as breathing, and some of his best and happiest moments had been while playing quidditch.

Harry had chased the snitch with an almost reckless abandon during that first practice, and after his fifth effortless-looking capture, everyone cheered. Ron and Ginny were whooping from their own broomsticks, and Hermione was clapping below in the stands. Harry felt happier than he had since before losing Sirius as he landed with the rest of the team on the quidditch pitch. The upcoming game between Gryffindor and Slytherin was filling the school with a happy excitement, but also with some absolutely necessary escapism. No one really wanted to think about what was going on outside of the school with Voldemort and the Death Eaters, so many students were throwing themselves into this quidditch season even more whole-heartedly than usual.

Harry had needed this temporary respite from reality more than anyone else had, and he found himself almost living for his next chance to play quidditch again. Harry found that he felt the most like his old self while aboard his Firebolt, and many times Harry felt almost loath to return to the ground after practice was over. Harry hadn't really been paying much attention to the students outside of his own close-knit small circle of friends and dormitory mates, so when Luna Lovegood unexpectedly tapped him on the shoulder the day of the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match in the Great Hall, Harry was briefly taken aback by her appearance.

At the end of last year, Luna had gone with Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville into the Ministry of Magic to attempt to save Sirius from Voldemort. In the horrible events that had followed that night, Sirius had been lost, and everyone who had gone with Harry to help had been injured; some severely. Hermione and Luna had both been knocked unconscious, Hermione with internal injuries. Ron had been attacked by a brain and he still bore the deep scars on his forearms from its powerful tentacles of thought. Ginny had broken her ankle, and Neville had sustained a hard kick in the face which had resulted in a broken nose and wand.

Harry still felt that he was the one to blame for all of those injuries, and along with the horrible nagging guilt of losing Sirius, everything sometimes became too much to bear. In Harry's dream Sirius had told Harry that he was not to blame, but Harry was still unable to forgive himself. Anytime that these thoughts occurred to Harry, he had to push them all away for fear of losing control again. Grieving had been a tremendously long and drawn-out process for Harry, and so far genuine healing had remained quite elusive.

As Harry stood looking at Luna, he noticed that she was once again wearing the same radish-shaped earrings she had worn last year. She was also once again wearing her ludicrously large lion-shaped hat in support of Gryffindor. As the hat roared realistically, Harry saw that she had apparently decided to improve upon it for this year.

"I like your hat, Luna," Harry said, recovering quickly, "that serpent's new isn't it?"

"Oh, yes," said Luna, as her wildly protuberant eyes seemed to almost pop with excitement. "I wanted the lion to be chewing on the serpent last year, you know, so I made sure to finish it this summer. Good luck, Harry!" Luna said, and with a suddenly dreamlike grin on her face, she drifted back to the Ravenclaw table. As Harry watched her go, he noticed a very pretty seventh year girl with a long black shiny ponytail chatting to her friends nearby. It was Cho Chang. Cho was the seeker for the Ravenclaw quidditch team, and she had been Harry's first real crush. Harry had gone out with her for a while last year.

Unfortunately, Cho had been Cedric Diggory's girlfriend the year before that, and after Cedric's untimely death, things had become rather complicated. Harry and Cho had dated and Harry had even shared his very first kiss with Cho, but she hadn't been able to get over losing Cedric. Cho had always wanted to talk about the horrible events surrounding his death, which Harry had unfortunately been witness to. Harry and Cho had fought often while together and by the end of the year she was with someone else. As Harry looked at Cho now, he still thought that she was very pretty, but he simply did not fancy her any longer. More often than not while dating her Cho had been in tears, and Harry had found that very difficult to handle. Harry had a hard enough time dealing with his own emotional burdens, without adding someone else's as well.

Harry turned away from the Ravenclaw table and attacked his breakfast; he would need the energy for the match later that day. Later when Madam Hooch blew the whistle to begin the match, the weather was gray and windy, but not rainy. Harry circled the pitch as the wind buffeted against him, aggressively wanting another win against Slytherin. Malfoy was circling the pitch in the opposite direction with a look of intense concentration. Harry had always been able to reach the snitch before Malfoy, often picking up the snitch right before Malfoy's rat-like nose, and Malfoy had always tried to retaliate in some way.

Ginny, Katie, and Duncan were working wonderfully well together below Harry as they scored again and again. Once again, the Slytherin team was made up of huge brutes rather than skilled players, and Gryffindor had the advantage. The Slytherin team, however, had no moral scruples whatsoever, and they often resorted to dirty tricks to try to win. Harry glanced down to check the progress of the game; he had still seen no sign of the snitch. As he did, Harry saw Slytherin's three huge chasers barreling towards Ron and his goalposts.

Ron looked very determined as he watched them close in. Suddenly one of the chasers faked a pass and then threw the quaffle very fast towards the left goal hoop. Ron saw what he was doing, though, and he raced to intercept. The bright red quaffle had been thrown so hard that as Ron reached to stop it, it went through his hands, hitting Ron with great force in the face. Ron's broom dipped slightly, he was dazed and was now spurting blood from both nostrils, but he had managed to stop the quaffle anyway.

The stadium erupted in cheers and shouts as the red and gold colors of Gryffindor waved in the wind. Harry yelled, "Yeah, Ron!" as he continued to search for the snitch. Hermione was screaming herself almost hoarse in the stands, waving her Gryffindor flag wildly and calling Ron's name. Ron had noticed this and smiled widely as he gingerly pinched his bloody nose, a slight flush crawling up his freckled face. As Ginny and Katie both scored two more times, the crowd was in a frenzy. The Slytherin side was booing and cajoling the Gryffindor team, but they could barely be heard over the Gryffindor supporter's raucous cheers.

Suddenly, Harry saw the golden glint of the snitch near the ground. Malfoy had seen it a second later and as he pursued Harry he yelled something Harry didn't catch at Crabbe and Goyle, the Slytherin beaters. Harry drew his Firebolt into a very steep dive. As Harry gained speed, he laid flat on his broom focusing exclusively on the small golden fleck that was the snitch. Unbeknownst to Harry, Crabbe and Goyle were both heading right for him. Harry saw Goyle hit a bludger at him out of the corner of his eye and swerved suddenly to avoid the collision. Unfortunately, what Harry did not see was that Crabbe was waiting for him with the other bludger.

As Harry swerved to miss Goyle's bludger, Crabbe's bludger hit him full force almost right between the eyes. Harry's glasses broke and sent pieces of glass everywhere, including into his face cutting the skin around his eyes, nose, and forehead. The force of the blow knocked Harry to the ground hard, the back of his head hitting first. Harry's consciousness slowly flickered in and out as Madam Hooch's whistle was blown. The game stopped as everyone ran to check on Harry. As if from a distance Harry heard the screams and gasps coming from the crowd in the stands. The pain in Harry's head reached a shrill pitch as Harry shuddered uncontrollably, turned his head slightly and wretched on the ground. Suddenly, everything went black, and Harry knew no more.

--------------------------

Harry could faintly hear a vague buzzing somewhere above his head. As his mind came closer to the surface, Harry realized that the buzzing was actually voices.

"Has he come around yet, Poppy?"

"No, not yet, I'm afraid."

"It's been a whole week, now. Do you think he's in any significant danger?"

"Well, it's a concussion, and quite a severe one at that. It may take some time for a full recovery, Minerva. He won't need to be up on that broomstick of his anytime soon, you can be sure of that." They sounded like women's voices, Harry reflected.

"Has the Headmaster been in yet today, Poppy?"

"Yes, he stopped by early this morning looking like he'd been up all night again. I told him he should take some potion and get some rest, but he refused, as usual."

"Well, we will all feel better when Potter wakes up, I'm sure." Harry heard someone leave. There was silence for a moment, then footsteps.

"You three should be at dinner."

"Madam Pomfrey, we're fine. Please tell us, has there been any improvement at all?" It was a new voice, younger, a girl.

"Mr. Potter will be all right, Miss Weasley, as I've been telling you all week. Severe head traumas like this take time to recover from. He could regain consciousness at anytime now."

Something in Harry's mind clicked into place; _Were those voices talking about him_? Harry heard a gasp.

"I thought I saw his eyelashes flutter," said another girl.

As Harry struggled his way to consciousness again, he had no idea where he was or what he had been doing, only that his head felt like it had been smashed open by a sledgehammer or perhaps a triple-decker bus. As Harry finally opened his eyes, he heard a horrible low moan, then he realized it was coming from him.

"Harry ..." three different voices said in unison very close by. The voices sounded anxious; they also sounded quite familiar. Everything was extremely blurry, Harry still didn't know where he was.

"What happened?" Harry croaked feebly, raising a hand to his aching head. Harry idly wondered whether half of his head was missing it felt so bad, but he could feel with his hand that his head was still there. He closed his eyes again. Harry then flinched slightly as someone put a cold cloth on his pounding forehead.

"Lie still, now, Mr. Potter. Lie still." said Madam Pomfrey, as she bustled around him. Harry realized that he must be in the hospital wing. "Here, take this potion, it should help to reduce the swelling and the pain a bit." As Madam Pomfrey helped Harry to drink some of the potion from his awkwardly supine position, Harry heard someone else speak from the other side of where he lay; it was Ron.

"You gave a quite a scare there, Harry. We thought that damn bludger may have killed you." Ron said, vehemently.

"Bludger?" Harry said, quizzically.

"Yeah, Harry. Those _bastards_ ..."

"Mr. Weasley!" Madam Pomfrey chastised.

"Sorry ... Crabbe and Goyle ganged up on you illegally when you were diving for the snitch. Don't you remember?" Ron asked.

Madam Pomfrey went bustling off again. Harry tried to turn on his side to see Ron better. This movement made his head throb horribly again, however, and another terrible groan escaped unbidden from his lips.

"Oh, Harry!" This time it was Hermione who had spoken; she sounded extremely frazzled. Then Harry heard a stifled sob - it sounded like Ginny. Hermione reached over and wrapped a comforting arm around her small shoulders. Harry painfully tried to squint up at his friends to make them come into focus.

"Oh, sorry mate, I forgot. Here," Ron said, very gingerly placing something on the brim of Harry's nose. "Your other glasses were completely destroyed beyond all repair, but Dumbledore got these new ones for you." he explained.

As Harry looked up at his three friends and was actually able to see them clearly, he realized that they were all very pale. They looked quite exhausted, in fact. Ron looked worried, but angry. Hermione was holding Ginny in a sisterly way, and Ginny was looking at Harry with big tears in her eyes. Harry was quite surprised and rather touched that Ginny would react in that way, and even in this very weakened state he wanted to comfort her.

"I'm okay," Harry said in a whisper to all of them, but he was looking specifically at Ginny, "Really I am."

"It's those bloody Slytherins that put you in here, Harry. They knew you were going to get the snitch, so they damn near killed you with their stupid bludgers, instead." Ron's ears were glowing bright red as his temper rose, and at this reminder from Ron, Hermione and Ginny were suddenly looking rather furious, as well.

"Did they get into trouble?" Harry finally asked, his voice just a little stronger.

"Oh, yes," piped up Hermione. "McGonagall's got them in detention for the next two weeks, and they were both docked one hundred points each," she said, satisfaction glowing on her face.

"We won anyway, Harry," Ron said proudly looking at his little sister, his temper cooling slightly. "Apparently Malfoy hadn't being paying attention to what the chasers were doing, and he couldn't reach the snitch before Ginny had raised the score to 160 points. He was bloody furious; it was brilliant!"

Ginny looked at her big brother, smiling, taking the compliment in good grace. Then Ginny said disparagingly, "He deserved it. I bet you anything that Malfoy was in on this somehow, Harry." Madam Pomfrey came in to shoo everyone out a short while later and send them to bed, but Ginny had looked back at Harry with a rather intensely anxious look on her face while she stood at the doorway to the hospital wing. Ron and Hermione had already entered the corridor.

"Get well really soon, okay, Harry," Ginny said, in a rather vulnerable voice, before smiling at him again softly and walking out the door.

---------------------------

That night, the pounding headache subsided somewhat, and Harry tried to remember what had actually happened. Harry remembered diving for the snitch, and then hearing Malfoy yell something at Crabbe and Goyle. Ginny was quite right, Malfoy _had _been the one who had actually instigated the whole thing, Harry realized bitterly.

Madam Pomfrey kept Harry in the hospital wing for an additional four days, giving Harry what felt like a hundred different potions a day. As Harry became well enough to get out of bed again, Harry saw in a nearby mirror what had caused the girls to react so strongly to his appearance. Harry's whole forehead was deep purple tinged with yellow and the impact had apparently burst the blood vessels in both eyes, making the whites of his eyes look blood-red. He also had numerous small cuts all around his face from the impact of his ruined glasses. "_No wonder I feel like I was hit by a sledgehammer,"_ Harry thought, as he gazed at his rather disturbing reflection.

The next few days brought many visitors, including Dumbledore, Hagrid, McGonagall, Moody, and the whole Gryffindor quidditch team. Luna also came by looking as though she had walked in accidentally. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny only left Harry's side when they had to. Ginny appeared to be almost more reticent about leaving than even Ron and Hermione were.

Harry had had to stay in hospital before and though he didn't enjoy it, he wasn't one to complain. Harry felt like it could've been much worse than it had been; he had never been completely knocked out for so long before, and he actually felt rather lucky to be alive. At night as the only patient in the ward, Harry contemplated how many brushes with death he'd had in his short lifetime. Harry found himself once again reliving the incredibly vivid dream he'd had of Sirius not long ago. It still hurt to think of it, but it now brought him a small degree of comfort. "We will be together again," Sirius had said, "I will never be where your heart can't find me."

During his long hours in the hospital, Harry waxed slightly philosophical about his life thus far. If he was meant to die early, either by Voldemort's hand or in some other way, at least he would be going to where Sirius and his parents already were. Harry didn't want to die, but neither had Sirius or his parents and they had died anyway. After all the fighting and narrow escapes, Harry felt that if he wasn't ultimately able to win, at least he could be with Sirius again in the end. Harry actually smiled to himself at these slightly macabre musings; but as his body healed from the concussion, his heart had finally begun its long journey of healing as well.

Another thing that was keeping Harry going in this positive new direction was the image of Ginny standing in the doorway that first day after he had regained consciousness again. Harry couldn't really explain why, but his mind kept drifting to that single image of her. Harry also began to think of Ginny's delicate face more and more often as he slowly recovered in the hospital wing. There was something very compelling about the looks of soft kindness she had been giving him recently, and Harry found that he looked forward to seeing Ginny again at least as much as he looked forward to seeing Ron and Hermione. Even though Harry hadn't had much cause to smile lately, Ginny's numerous visits were always able to illicit that response from him. As he nodded off to sleep that last day in the hospital wing, Harry found himself reflecting on Ginny's sweetly soft voice, and he slept better and more soundly that night than he could ever remember sleeping before.


	9. The Masquerade Ball

_**Author's Note: Romance is beginning to blossom. Please enjoy!**_

**CHAPTER NINE - THE MASQUERADE BALL**

Harry was released from the hospital on Sunday morning. His face still looked horrible since his forehead and eyes were not quite healed, but he had been more than ready to get away from the hospital wing. While Harry had been gone, a special notice had appeared in all the house common rooms. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had been too worried about Harry to really pay much attention to the school bulletins, and it wasn't until after Harry had been released that anyone noticed it.

Harry was working in the Gryffindor common room under an absolute mountain of homework. He'd been out of class for a week and a half and had been too weak while in hospital to get very far with his schoolwork. As Harry was finishing a ridiculously long essay for Snape on truth serums, a group of fourth year girls giggled loudly and rather nervously at something posted on the notice board. Harry frowned at them, slightly put out by the amount of noise they were making.

Hermione noticed Harry's irritated expression and looked up at the girls who were now leaving the common room excitedly. As she went to the notice board to see what they had been giggling about, Hermione's face froze in a slightly arrested look as she quickly read the bulletin to herself.

"Have you seen this?" she asked Harry, Ron, and Ginny.

Ginny, now being in her O.W.L. year, was working on her own mountain of work nearby. Harry noticed that Dean was sitting across the room playing gobstones with Seamus, instead of sitting with Ginny.

"I haven't had a chance to see anything but homework," Harry said, rather sulkily.

"Me neither," Ginny said, as she looked at Harry, sighing empathetically.

"Well, what does it say, then?" Ron asked, growing impatient.

"Attention all students fourth year and above: this year on Halloween night the proprietors of Honeydukes, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, and Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes are happy to announce that they will be hosting a Masquerade Ball here at Hogwarts in the Great Hall." Hermione read aloud. "Please come dressed in full costume, as an award will be presented to the best dressed couple." Hermione finished reading. "Well, that could be fun," she said, "it might be a good way to get our minds off ... well, things," Hermione glanced rather carefully at Harry.

Harry, however, hadn't noticed Hermione's anxious look. His green eyes were now focused specifically upon Ginny. "Er ..." he began, rather clumsily, "I guess you and Dean will ... you know ..."

"Oh," Ginny said, briskly, "Oh no, Harry, we're not going out anymore. He always seemed to want to spend more time with his mates than with me, so I told him that I wasn't interested anymore."

"Oh, Ginny, I didn't realize," said Hermione, apologetically.

"Oh, I'm fine, really. We weren't that serious anyway," said Ginny, completely unperturbed, as she went back to her homework.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in their favorite squashy armchairs by the fire. There were a few groups of students scattered around, but most had now gone to bed. Harry stared into the crackling flames for a moment, gathering courage. Ron and Hermione were listening, trying to appear nonchalant as Harry swallowed nervously and then turned to Ginny.

"Say Ginny, if you don't already have plans, then," Harry said, a bit awkwardly, the part of his face that was not bruised turning almost the same shade of purple, "I mean, if you'd like, you and I could go to the ball together.... if you want to."

"Oh," said Ginny, smiling shyly and blushing crimson herself. "I'd love to, Harry." They looked at each other and smiled sweetly before looking away again self-consciously.

Hermione smiled to herself and said, "Well, time for bed," as she packed her many thick school books away.

Ron followed suit, but instead of smiling knowingly like Hermione had, Ron was looking nervous. He was looking just as nervous, in fact, as Harry just had. As Hermione reached the stairway leading up to her dormitory, Ron caught up to her and reached out an arm to stop her. Hermione turned, looking at him inquisitively as Ron took a deep breath.

"Hermione, er ... how about, er ... do you want to, er ..." Ron trailed off looking a bit pale. Hermione stared at him for a moment, then finally took pity on him.

"Ron, I would be perfectly delighted to attend the Masquerade Ball with you," she said firmly, but then turned a delicate shade of pink despite herself.

"You would, really?" Ron said, sounding extremely relieved as the colored rushed into his face, too.

"Well, of course," Hermione said, in a slightly exasperated tone, but she was smiling quite broadly at him all the same. As Hermione turned and ran up her staircase, Ron turned to Harry and Ginny, a slightly dreamy expression on his freckled face.

"Wow .... Well, goodnight, then," he said to them, as he drifted off up the stairs to the boy's dormitories.

Harry and Ginny watched him go happily. Harry had known that there had been a bit more than friendship brewing between the two of them for a long time, and he was glad to see that Ron had finally gotten brave enough to act on it. Harry then turned, looking at Ginny. She and her family had been in his life for all these years, yet it was almost like he had never genuinely _seen_ Ginny until recently. As he watched her petite form loading her schoolwork into her bag, he wondered how he had never noticed how lovely her red hair shown in the firelight or how her fair delicate hands gracefully wrapped around her quill. As Ginny got up, she looked back at Harry and noticed him watching her. Harry looked away again, slightly embarrassed at being caught. But then Ginny reached for his arm and Harry looked up into her warm brown eyes.

"I'm really glad you asked me, Harry," she said softly, smiling gently.

Ginny then turned and headed upstairs. It was a moment or two before Harry finally decided to go to bed himself. Ginny's agreeing to go to the ball with him had filled Harry first with relief, then with great joy. Harry smiled to himself; he felt almost as light as a feather as he, like Hermione, Ron, and Ginny before him, floated dreamily off to bed as well.

-----------------------------

As Halloween approached there was a flurry of excitement surrounding the older students. Harry noticed that there seemed to be a lot of pairing off occurring throughout Hogwarts. It was almost as if there was a tremendous spark of powerful electricity igniting between the boy and girl students, especially those in sixth and seventh year. Maybe it had always been that way, but Harry had never really noticed it until now.

Harry was now finding excuses to be where Ginny was. Seeing her come down from her dormitory, meeting up with her at lunch, or even seeing her come out dirty and exhausted from the greenhouses simply made Harry's heart feel light and always brought a rather goofy grin to his face. This relationship was already so different from the one Harry had had with Cho last year. Harry had always been extremely nervous and awkward around Cho; and while Ginny made him get nervous butterflies in his stomach when she smiled at him, the butterflies were always accompanied by a feeling of immense happiness. Harry hadn't really had the chance to get to know Cho all that well, he now realized; maybe that had been part of the problem.

Ginny Weasley, however, had been a part of his life since Harry had first seen her standing at platform nine and three-quarters with her mother when he was eleven years old. Harry simply felt more comfortable around her, and now that he thought about it, Harry realized that they had actually been though quite a few things together. It had been Ginny Harry had gone to save in the Chamber of Secrets in his second year. Ginny, along with Ron and Hermione, had also been present with Harry onboard the Hogwart's Express when a dementor entered their compartment the next year. When Arthur Weasley had been attacked last year by Voldemort's snake, Harry remembered keeping an anxious vigil with her, Sirius, Ron, Fred and George until they received news that Mr. Weasley was going to be okay. Ginny had even been possessed by Voldemort before, just as Harry had last June.

Ginny had shown herself to be forthright, tenacious, and strong, and like the rest of the Weasley's, even stubborn on occasion. Even though she was the smallest player on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, Ginny was also one of its' fiercest competitors. She and Harry both loved quidditch, and they were both unafraid of a challenge, even if considerable danger was involved. They quite simply had a great deal in common, and Harry now realized that going through what they had together had created a uniquely strong bond of respect, friendship, and trust between them.

It was nearly the end of October now, and Harry's quidditch wounds had finally healed. He, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were now spending a lot of time discussing the upcoming Masquerade Ball. Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, which were usually shops located exclusively on Diagon Alley, had recently and temporarily rented some space in the village of Hogsmeade. Two weeks previous, there had been a Hogsmeade weekend which had given everyone attending the ball a chance to find a costume and look at the wears in Fred and George's joke shop.

Madam Malkin had robes in almost every fabric and in every color imaginable, and she also made elaborate masks that were made to match whatever color robes one might want for a costume. As Harry and Ron spent some time with Fred and George in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Hermione and Ginny went costume shopping. As Harry and Ron entered the little rustic building Fred and George had temporarily rented for their merchandise, Harry was amazed at the assortment of fireworks, gag gifts, and joke foods all over the drafty walls of the rather dilapidated and ramshackle shop.

"Hey, look who it is," Fred said to George when they walked in.

"Blimey," gasped Ron, in complete awe. "You've come up with loads of new stuff, haven't you."

Besides the usual assortment of skiving snack boxes, canary creams, ton-tongue toffees, and fireworks that Harry had already seen, there were now brand new products such as a skiving snack box that caused severe coughing fits, a chocolate bar that turned the eater's face a bright fluorescent orange, and a new scarf that made the wearer's whole top half of their body disappear.

"When did you come up with all of these?" Harry asked, picking up a scarf.

"Oh," answered George, grinning from ear to ear. "These were all in development when we were still in school. We've just perfected them a bit more and now they're ready for our adoring public."

Harry and Ron continued to look about in amazement. The twins were looking extremely pleased with themselves. Fred walked over and was now leaning towards them conspiratorially.

"Well, you know Mum wasn't too keen on the whole joke shop idea at first," Fred explained, "but now that it's a real success, she actually seems proud."

"Yeah," George chimed in, somewhat sarcastically, "Mum's actually proud of us, who'd have thought."

Lowering his voice, Fred said, "Her and Dad are too busy with the Order to really be miffed at what we're doing anyway." After a moment, he put the box of candy he had been holding up on a shelf. "So, Harry," Fred continued, raising his voice somewhat dramatically and looking in a rather Percy-like way at him, "What's this we've heard about you dating our sister, eh?"

"Yeah," said George suggestively, "Just what do you think you're doing? What are your intentions with our sweet little Ginny, anyway?"

Harry goggled at the twins, his insides squirming rather fearfully. He was completely taken aback by the abrupt change in the topic from joke paraphernalia to his own very private personal life. Blushing furiously, Harry took a step backwards and then opened his mouth to answer them, but nothing came out. Fred and George were looking at Harry with their arms crossed over their chests trying to appear intimidating when Ron finally spoke up. Ron set the coughing snack box he had been inspecting down as he walked over to where Harry, Fred and George were standing by the counter.

"Oy, lay off, guys," Ron began, seeing Harry's reaction and trying to stand up for him. Just then, however, Fred and George's faces changed expression abruptly. They began to grin, then dropping all pretense burst out laughing deviously as they clapped each other on the back in raucous amusement.

"Did you see the look on Harry's face?" Fred chuckled to George comically, as they released another loud peal of laughter. Ron turned to Harry rolling his eyes, but Harry was still crimson and was looking resolutely away from them.

"Oh, go on, Harry," Fred said, stepping up to Harry and clapping him on the back, too, "We were only joking - really - we think it's great that you and Ginny are going out. So, when did this happen anyway?" Fred asked conversationally, apparently deciding that he had teased Harry enough.

Harry eventually looked back at them again, feeling only slightly less mortified. "Not long ago," he said, rather vaguely.

"Yeah," piped up Ron, a bit of a smirk on his freckled face, "Harry only got the guts to ask her out after being knocked out for a week by that bludger."

"ME?" Harry exclaimed, rounding on Ron rather heatedly, "You've fancied Hermione for years, and you asked her the same day I asked Ginny!" It was Ron's turn to blush, now. Ron had stepped right into that one.

Fred and George grinned maliciously at each other. "Maybe that bludger finally knocked some sense into you, Harry. Maybe Ron could use a hit on the head, too. We could take care of that for you, you know." Fred said, looking mischievously at his youngest brother.

"But honestly," George said protectively, once again being serious, "We always wanted to make sure that Ginny found, well ... you know, the right person."

"Yeah, Harry. She is our baby sister after all. We really are glad it's you," Fred agreed, sincerely.

Harry was still blushing, but he was actually impressed by the twins' sudden sincerity. Fred and George weren't often to be taken seriously, but like the rest of their family, they could be quite formidable when they were. Harry stopped feeling chagrined and gave them a genuine smile, and the twins then turned their attention to Ron. Unfortunately, by the time they had finished tormenting him for dating Hermione, Ron's face was glowing so red it might have ignited kindling. Ron grabbed Harry's arm rather harder than he intended as they quickly made their way away from the twins' cackling voices and back outside again.

"Gits," Ron said, angrily.

Harry remained silent as they walked up the windy street. Fred and George were not genuinely malicious in their banter, but Harry knew that they sometimes went a bit too far. Harry glanced sideways at Ron. Ron was still looking angry and sullen. Harry hesitated, then put out an arm to stop his progress up the street.

"Listen, Ron," Harry began, "Fred and George are obnoxious, okay. But I just wanted you to know that I think you and Hermione going out is great."

"You do?" Ron asked.

"Absolutely," Harry answered, earnestly.

"Did you really know that I ... well, that I've fancied Hermione for a while?" Ron asked, looking resolutely down at his shoes.

"Well, yeah," Harry said grinning. "It's kind of obvious. I mean, I'm with you and Hermione all the time. I'd have to be blind not to notice."

"Well, I've always wanted you and Ginny to go out," Ron said, his mood changing. "She's always kind of had a crush on you."

"I dunno," Harry said, humbly. "I'm just glad to have the chance to be with her. I honestly don't know what's going to happen, but I do know that things can change. I just don't want to waste whatever time we've been given."

Ron looked at Harry questioningly, but Harry didn't elaborate. Harry choose not to mention that he knew deep down that very dark and difficult times were on the horizon, especially for him and those close to him. As they walked down the shop-lined street, Harry pushed those dreary thoughts out of his mind. Right now, Harry just wanted to be a normal teenage wizard and to find what happiness he could in his life while he was still able to do so.

-------------------------------

Halloween night at Hogwarts was always a special occasion. This year, however, was especially so. The mood in the castle was upbeat, excited. As the time came for the ball to actually begin, Harry and Ron started to get into their costumes. Since the Masquerade Ball included dancing, their costumes were all made up of dress robes and uniquely made masks that covered their faces, but didn't restrict their movement. Harry had chosen to wear a costume that resembled a great stag, it seemed fitting. Harry put on his new dress robes which were a cool shade of blue. The mask that finished the ensemble was made of a matching blue felt, it appeared very much like what deerskin actually looked like. The top had intricately carved horns, made of a dark mahogany wood. It hid most of Harry's face from view.

Ron was able to use the dress robes that Fred and George had purchased for him last year as they were a rich dark brown like his mask. Ron's mask was made of soft fur-like cotton which resembled a wolf's head. Harry and Ron looked at each other, feeling slightly odd and out of place, but then Harry reasoned, everyone else was going to be in costume, too. The other boys in Harry's dormitory had all found dates to the ball, as well. Dean didn't seem to be too upset by Harry and Ginny's new relationship; he had simply jumped into another one with Parvati. Dean had chosen to go in golden robes that sported a lion's mask. Seamus was wearing a burnt sienna costume with a fox mask, while Neville had chosen green robes with a frog-like mask. The boys all headed down to the common room together.

The Gryffindor girls had now begun to make their appearances in the common room, as well. Parvati, dressed in black robes and an extravagantly beaded cat mask joined Dean on the stairs. Harry had at first worried that he might offend Dean by going out with Ginny so soon after they had broken up, but since Dean was now looking completely thrilled to be going with the very attractive Parvati Patil, Harry decided to forget it. Seamus' date, Lavender Brown, then came down in a pink flowing robes with an almost ridiculously fluffy pink rabbit mask on her head. Seamus didn't seem to mind, however, as with a certain nervous jumpiness, he offered her his arm. Harry and Ron were standing together next to the fireplace. They were too nervous to be comfortable sitting down. Ron was tapping his foot anxiously, and Harry was finding that for some reason his breathing kept coming in quick little gasps. A few moments later, neither Hermione or Ginny had made it down yet.

"What's taking so long?" Ron complained impatiently, almost beside himself. "What are they doing up there, dying their hair to match the costumes or something?"

Finally, the girls made their appearance. It was worth the wait. Hermione was in incredibly beautiful red silk dress robes that swished gently when she walked. Hermione's hair was up in a lovely coif, and her mask was made of gold and red glittering feathers in an intricate pattern that resembled a phoenix. Ron had pulled his mask off to watch her descend. Right behind her, Ginny appeared. Harry pulled his mask off, too, and his jaw dropped dramatically as he gazed at her, completely awestruck. Ginny was wearing flowing white robes that glittered as she moved and her mask was made of gleaming silver white feathers that looked like an elegant white snowy owl. Both Ginny and Hermione's masks stopped just below their noses, so that Harry and Ron were able to see their radiant smiles underneath. Ginny's red hair was up in a similar style to Hermione's; they had obviously helped each other get ready.

It was hard to say which girl looked more beautiful, though both Harry and Ron each had their favorite, for obvious reasons. Each of them watched mesmerized as Ginny and Hermione seemed to float towards them. Harry couldn't seem to take his eyes off Ginny, and as she reached for his hand, he actually shivered. Ron appeared to feel the same way about Hermione, and as the four of them adjusted their masks and headed towards the Great Hall, they gave the impression that the whole world could have fallen away from them and they would never have noticed.

Once in the Great Hall, Harry glanced away from Ginny just long enough to realize that the hall had been transformed into an amazing concoction of black and orange. Black spider webs hung from all the wall brackets, and Hagrid's humongous pumpkins were set up in every corner and by the small wooden stage that had been set up near the front of the hall. Candles were gleaming everywhere, including inside of the vast carved pumpkins. Groups of bats flew all around the enchanted ceiling which was currently filled with twinkling stars as the occasional cloud floated past the bright full harvest moon. Honeydukes chocolates and various other colorfully wrapped candies were arranged around the Great Hall like small glittering jewels. As the students settled into the smaller round tables that had replaced the usual four large rectangular house tables, Dumbledore went center-stage.

He was wearing silver robes with a white tiger-shaped mask as he viewed the colorful crowd of students. "Welcome to all," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling brightly behind his mask. "Tonight was designed for the enjoyment of all participants, so please be sure to enjoy yourselves. Also, for those of you who are curious about who is judging the costumes tonight, please look to your left." A small table had been set up and the two judges were looking out into the vast crowd, their smiles gleaming. It was Fred and George. "The Brothers Weasley have kindly offered their services tonight to provide both fireworks later on, and also to present an award to the best dressed couple. The feast will begin, momentarily." Dumbledore concluded as he took a seat by Professor McGonagall, who was wearing velvety black robes and a rather elegant looking panther mask of black and gold velvet over her face.

As the gleaming golden plates with menus appeared on the tables just as they had the year of the Yule Ball, each person spoke what they wanted and it appeared perfectly prepared on their individual plate. Maybe it was just because he was older now, but things felt very different to Harry than they had the evening of the Yule Ball, two years before. Harry felt a bit nervous, just as he had done then, but he also felt a lot more affection for his date than he had on that occasion. Harry looked across the table at his two best friends. Ron and Hermione were looking at each other as though they had never really seen each other before. Incongruously, they seemed oddly nervous around each other, while somehow appearing more happy than Harry had ever seen them at the very same time.

After dinner, The Weird Sisters took the stage, as they had two years previous. Harry felt himself growing slightly more anxious as couples began to fill the dance floor. Ginny was sitting next to him quietly, smiling through her feathered mask at her brother and Hermione across the table. Harry took a deep breath and turned to her.

"I'm really not much of a dancer, Ginny, but would you like to dance, anyway?" Harry asked.

"Of course, Harry," Ginny replied, and then whispered in his ear, "Last time I was with Neville, and he stepped on my toes so much I was afraid they would fall off."

Harry chuckled quietly as he spotted Neville across the room. Apparently he had asked Luna Lovegood to the ball, and they were dancing to a very odd beat of their own. Luna appeared to be wearing a squid costume. It reminded Harry of the Famous Witches and Wizard Card of Uric the Oddball. As he leaned over to Ginny to tell her, Ginny's gentle laugh filled his ears. They smiled warmly at each other as Harry led Ginny to the dance floor. Ron and Hermione had left to dance a few moments before. After their case of the giggles, Harry was beginning to feel more comfortable now, his nervousness finally lifting away.

Harry and Ginny, while excellent at quidditch, had had little experience with dancing, and they spent the evening trying to figure out how to dance to both the fast and the slow tunes. After giggling at themselves over and over again every time they accidentally bumped into each other, they began to gain a certain level of trust and comfort together. Even Malfoy in his stupid black cobra costume muttering under his breath every time he passed with a bat-like costumed Pansy Parkinson couldn't distract Harry from Ginny. Harry knew peripherally that the Great Hall was full of many costumed people, but it felt as though he and Ginny were in a separate wonderful world of their very own making.

After a few songs, Fred and George stopped the band to announce the winning couple. "We are happy to announce the best dressed couple award tonight." Fred began. "The winning couple is Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley!" he said, beaming at them. Ron and Hermione were evidently quite shocked. As they walked to the stage, Harry and Ginny were clapping and cheering loudly through their masks at them. Harry then thought that he heard George tell Ron out of the corner of his mouth, "It's the least we can do after being so hard on you in Hogsmeade," as Fred handed them the ribbon, grinning widely. As the evening winded down, the songs became slower and Harry found that he very much enjoyed the feeling of having Ginny in his arms.

As the last song began playing, Harry realized that this wonderful night was almost over. He didn't want it to end, it had somehow gone by incredibly quickly. This was apparently the cue for Fred and George to begin their fireworks display. Everyone removed their masks as they looked up mesmerized by the bright and colorful explosions that were now filling the sky of the enchanted ceiling. As the spectacular patterns of sparks continued to soar gracefully overhead, Harry glanced over at Ron and Hermione. They were dancing slowly and quite close together nearby, apparently oblivious to everything else, even the amazing pyrotechnic display above them. Harry looked at Ginny and nodded towards them. She smiled up at him knowingly and then rested her head on his shoulder as they continued dancing slowly till the last soft beat of that final song.


	10. Sharing the Truth

_**Author's Note: I'm not going to be able to update for a few days, but I should be able to provide another installment sometime this weekend.**_

**_QueenWeasel - Thanks for the continued reviews and encouragement. MinorMistake99 - I may or may not bring Firenze and Grawp back into this narrative, as they are not really essential to my storyline. We'll see. This chapter is fairly emotional and a little bit longer - I hope you like it._**

**CHAPTER TEN - SHARING THE TRUTH**

The month of November brought with it freezing winds and sharply dropping temperatures. The castle and grounds were covered in a thick enveloping blanket of snow, and the torches had to be lit early inside the dank dark corridors and classrooms. Argus Filch, the Hogwarts caretaker, his grumpy disposition considerably worse than usual due to his rheumatism, stalked the hallways with his skeletal gray cat, Mrs. Norris, at his side. He was currently busy mopping up puddles of melting snow that had just been tracked in by incoming students. Filch was muttering under his breath furiously and Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked by him cautiously, trying to avoid a confrontation.

Filch had been in an even nastier mood than usual this year. Harry felt that this was most likely due to the fact that Dumbledore had ousted Dolores Umbridge from Hogwarts the previous term. With backing from the ex-Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, Umbridge had established herself at Hogwarts as the so-called Hogwarts High Inquisitor. She had then forcefully taken over the headmistress position, much to the chagrin and horror of the vast majority of the student body and teachers. Thankfully, Dumbledore had later come back, successfully reclaiming his rightful place at the school. Filch, however, had been very disappointed by Dumbledore's return. Umbridge had promised Filch free reign over student punishments, so that he could whip students raw for such major offenses as throwing fanged frisbees down the corridors or dropping dungbombs in the hall. Filch had completely relished the idea, but shortly thereafter Umbridge was made to relinquish her post, and Filch was left unable to exact any revenge against the students he so despised.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione managed to sneak past Filch without attracting his attention, but it was only because of a lucky coincidence. Peeves, the school poltergeist, had chosen that precise moment to fling the full mop bucket Filch had just been using over Mrs. Norris. Harry, Ron, and Hermione scampered away quickly as a now soaking wet Mrs. Norris yowled loudly, and Filch screamed at Peeves in fury. As the three of them entered their Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom that morning, Moody appeared to be in high spirits.

"Yes. Yes, have a seat, now, have a seat. Hurry up, now," Moody said, apparently anxious to begin the lesson. "Today we will be beginning something new. You've already mastered the basics, so now it's time to learn elementary conjuring spells. Now a general conjuring spell can be used to conjure any number of inanimate objects, but we will be using it specifically for defense purposes in this class. Repeat the incantation after me, '_Conjurus_.'"

"_Conjurus_," everyone chanted back at him.

"Good," Moody said, hobbling around to the front of his desk. "Now when using the conjurus spell, you must of course know what it is you wish to conjure. For example, say I want to conjure up something simple, like a book. I say the incantation, '_Conjurus Book_!' and," Moody held out the book that had just appeared in his hand and showed it to the class, "so, here it is. You must picture very clearly in your mind what it is you want to appear. There are two basic rules for this particular spell. The first rule is that the object must be inanimate. You cannot conjure up living things, like a person or an animal, for instance. The second rule is that the object must be of relatively limited size. In other words, don't try to conjure a house. A house would simply be too large for this specific spell to work. A good rule of thumb is that if you can hold it in your hand, you'll be more likely to conjure it successfully."

Moody made the book he had conjured disappear into nothing as he looked at his pupils, sizing them up. This was quite a small class in comparison to the classes Harry had experienced before his O.W.L. year. The only students in this class were himself, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Dean, and Seamus from Gryffindor, and Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, and Susan Bones from Hufflepuff. Apparently, the Ravenclaws had gotten stuck with the Slytherins for their N.E.W.T. level Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Moody was casting an appraising glance at Ron.

"Mr. Weasley, if you please." Ron stepped closer to Moody; he swallowed nervously as he took out his wand. "Now I want you to picture very clearly an object, keeping in mind the rules I spoke about earlier." Moody paused as Ron looked up at the ceiling, thinking. "Do you have an object in mind?" Moody asked Ron.

"Yes, sir," Ron answered.

"Okay then, give it a go."

"_Conjurus Sock_!" Ron said, and a dark formless sock, looking much like Hermione's hand-knitted elf socks from last year, appeared in Ron's hand. Ron had looked excited at first when something had really appeared, but upon actually inspecting it, he looked rather disappointed.

"That's not really what I had in mind," Ron said dully, as he turned the shapeless mass of material over in his hand.

"You must speak the incantation with great authority, now, Mr. Weasley. You must feel it. You must have complete confidence and conviction." Moody explained, turning again to face the class. "This advanced level class is focused upon spells and charms that have to have powerful emotion behind them. You must be quite sure of what you want, especially in relation to defense. If someone is attacking you, you must _know _what you need to conjure in order to protect yourself. It must become second nature. A large part of Defense Against the Dark Arts is intuitive, instinctual. Following your own good instincts can save your life. Some of you know that already," Moody said, as both of his eyes now focused directly upon Harry. Harry looked back at Moody, giving him a grim nod. Harry knew better than any other student in the room how important those instincts could be.

Moody continued, looking back at Ron. "Feel in your gut that that object is something that you absolutely need, Mr. Weasley. Now, try again." Ron closed his eyes, concentrating hard.

"_Conjurus Sock_!" he said, much more firmly this time. A clearly defined crisp black woolen sock now successfully appeared in his hand. Ron smiled up at everyone excitedly, as Moody clapped him on the back with a gnarled hand.

"Yes. Yes, Mr. Weasley, much better. Now everyone choose an object and conjure it!" Moody instructed in his gravelly voice.

Everyone was able to successfully conjure an item before the end of the class. Hermione like Ron had succeeded in conjuring an object; in her case, a quill, on her second try. Harry, surprising himself, had been successful on his very first attempt, conjuring a long length of strongly knotted rope easily before any of the others had even started. Ron and Hermione didn't seem surprised at all, however. They felt that their best friend was quite exceptional when it came to defense and said so, beaming at him. Harry tried to smile back, but he was plagued by a nagging feeling of doubt. He knew that no matter what may come easily to him now in a classroom, he was still vastly under-experienced when it came to actually going face to face to Voldemort again. Ron and Hermione frowned anxiously at his reaction, but said nothing.

--------------------

That evening after dinner Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione sat by the fire in the common room, once more working hard on their piles of schoolwork. As the hour grew later, one by one the other Gryffindor students went to bed. Eventually, only the four of them remained. Ron was just completing his last long essay for Transfiguration. He sat exhaustedly back in his chair, tiredly rubbing his eyes. Hermione had fallen asleep in the chair next to his, her bushy brown hair flowing softly down the armrest. Crookshanks had curled up tightly in her lap, his whiskers twitching slightly as he dreamt. As Ron put away his quill, parchment, and ink, he noticed that Hermione was gently dozing. He looked at her sleeping face with a rather sappy-looking expression before he realized that Harry and Ginny were watching him.

"Oy, Hermione," Ron said loudly, nudging her abruptly awake.

"Oh," Hermione said drowsily, slightly annoyed, "I didn't mean to fall asleep." She yawned and got up, knocking a disgruntled Crookshanks to the floor by accident. Hermione gave Ron an irritated look, and thankfully he had the good grace to look apologetically back at her. Hermione gave him a forgiving smile as he squeezed her hand briefly before turning to leave. As Ron and Hermione went to bed, Harry and Ginny continued to try to finish their homework. Harry was trying to study his Charms notes, but his eyes were refusing to focus anymore. Ginny was attempting to memorize a star chart for Astronomy, but she wasn't getting any further than Harry was.

"I give up," Ginny said, finally closing her schoolbooks wearily. "How did you get through all this work last year, Harry? I feel like I can barely keep on top of it all."

"Hermione's note-taking ability, mostly," Harry answered, with a tired grin. "Well, I guess we'd better get to bed, too. It's nearly one o'clock." Harry said, looking at his watch. He was surprised at how late it had gotten.

Ginny started to get up, but before she headed for her dormitory, she looked at Harry and said, "I really had a great time on Halloween, Harry. Thank you for taking me."

"Er ... Thank you ... I mean, thank you for going with me," Harry said awkwardly, the blood rushing to his face. "_Oh, brilliant," _Harry chastised himself silently, "_that sounded really smooth, you idiot!"_

Ginny had turned away again and was now halfway up the stairs. Harry bent to load his own supplies into his bag when suddenly Ginny came running back down the stairs towards him. Harry didn't realize what she was doing until she had already done it. Ginny ran into Harry's arms, nearly knocking him over. As she did, she reached up and kissed him quickly on the cheek, a slightly mischievous smile on her face.

Harry was quite surprised, but he smiled, too, still holding her loosely in his arms. They looked into each other's eyes, their grins gently fading. Harry had never held a girl in his arms face to face like this for this long before, and before he had any time to really think about what he was doing, Harry was kissing Ginny on the lips warmly. Luckily, unlike the teary-eyed Cho Chang, Ginny responded in kind, kissing him back just as intensely. Still holding one another they smiled gently, looking into each other's eyes in the soft flickering light of the dying hearth fire. Harry had never felt such an immediate unspoken connection to another human being as he had at that moment with Ginny. He felt a powerful surge of emotion as he continued to hold her in his arms; it was a safe feeling, and he didn't want to let her go. Slowly, though, after a few endlessly breathless moments, Harry and Ginny broke apart again. He watched her as she began walking back up the stairs. Ginny turned back, giving Harry a smile that was somehow both shy and playful at the same time, as she continued to slowly ascend to her dormitory.

Later, Harry lay awake in his four poster, blissfully reliving what had just happened. He had never felt this way about anyone before. The powerful emotion that Harry was now feeling towards Ginny was amazingly strong. Her glowing face was permanently imprinted on his mind, and he felt the happiest he had ever felt in his whole life. For the first time in months, Harry's heart was not aching at the loss of Sirius; it was currently filled with a much more happy and joyful emotion. As Harry drifted off to sleep, he felt so wonderful that he didn't even think to build the Occlumency barrier in his mind as he had carefully been doing every night....

_Harry entered a somewhat familiar large and very dark room. The room was extremely cold and drafty, with the only light coming from the fire blazing in the fireplace. The room had a chair upholstered in black and red velvet, but it was extremely worn and threadbare; it appeared quite old as he glanced at it. Harry thought he heard the soft creak of a door opening behind him and he shivered slightly as he turned around. The sight that met his eyes was almost too horrible for Harry to fully accept. _

_Voldemort was walking quickly into the room, his abnormally long white fingers wrapped around his wand as he pushed a completely white-faced Ginny in front of him. Before Harry could do or say anything, Voldemort pushed Ginny roughly away from him down onto the floor and pointed his wand directly at Harry's heart._

_"CRUCIO!" Voldemort said, his voice an icy cold hiss as Harry felt the spell hit him. Though he tried, Harry was unable to stop himself from screaming and writhing, clutching his scar in agony upon the floor. Voldemort then released a purely evil high-pitched laugh as he pointed his wand at a now sobbing Ginny crouching terrified against the wall._

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he cackled cruelly, as the green light hit Ginny squarely in the face. Harry, still half blind from the pain, looked over into Ginny's now cold lifeless face and felt all the good feelings and happy memories of his life evaporate as completely as if they had never existed at all......**Suddenly, though, a cold realization hit Harry's conscious mind, he realized that he was dreaming - that Voldemort was once again trying break into his mind, that Voldemort was attempting to control him. "This isn't real," Harry told himself, as he abruptly threw the powerful barriers up in his mind, blocking the horrific scene and stopping it from infiltrating further into his consciousness.**_

Harry woke with a start. He had broken out into a cold sweat and was trembling despite the warmth of the hearth fire. Harry felt a deep penetrating cold that seemed to go to the pit of his very being as he sat up in bed, gasping for breath. He felt so stupid, how could he have forgotten to build the barrier? How could he have let Voldemort back into his mind again? How could he have made such an idiotic mistake? As Harry continued to berate himself mentally, Ron stirred in the next bed.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Ron said, noticing that Harry was awake.

"Sure," Harry lied, "I'm fine. Just woke up, that's all." Ron was staring at him curiously, but apparently decided to take him at his word.

"All right, then.... 'night," Ron said, as he turned back over and was soon snoring lightly again.

As Ron went back to sleep, Harry turned carefully on his side facing away from Ron's four poster. Voldemort was attacking his mind again, but that wasn't the worst of it. Because of this foolish lapse, Harry realized, Voldemort was continuing to pump his mind for information; information that he would attempt to use against him. Voldemort already knew about Ron and Hermione being his best friends, and now he knew how Harry felt about Ginny, too.

--------------------

Saturday morning as Harry woke up, sleet was pounding ferociously against the castle windows. Harry was restless and distracted as the images from last night's dream and its repercussions kept stubbornly resurfacing in his mind. Harry was unable to keep his dark brooding thoughts completely hidden, and as he joined Ginny at the Gryffindor table with Ron and Hermione a short while later, Ginny asked him what was wrong.

"Wrong?" Harry asked, trying harder to conceal how he really felt, "Nothing's wrong."

Ron and Hermione had chosen seats across from Harry and Ginny. Hermione, too, had noticed Harry's abrupt change in mood. She turned inquisitively to look at Ron, but he just shrugged. Ron was not one to push unless there was no other way around it. Ginny, however, was another matter.

"Harry, we all know you better than that," Ginny said, with her usual directness. "You're upset about something, I can tell. What is it? Maybe we can help."

Harry sat there silently for a moment, watching numbly as the other students ate their breakfast and chatted unconcernedly with their friends. He wished wistfully that he could feel as carefree as they. Ginny was still staring at him stubbornly, not to be easily thwarted. Ron and Hermione were watching him, too.

"It's nothing," Harry lied again, shutting them out.

Over the next three weeks, Harry tried to behave normally, but he wasn't quite successful. Ever since the dream, Harry had decided that it wasn't safe for him to drop the barrier in his mind again. Unfortunately, this was making him appear detached and distant, and Harry was unable to ignore the suspiciously worried glances coming from Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. Ginny in particular seemed especially watchful; her gaze deeply searching, almost as if trying to read his thoughts. Each time he noticed these anxious looks coming from his friends, Harry tried to block them out and endeavored to look very busy, either with schoolwork or some other readily available excuse.

Harry was only really able to concentrate completely on one thing at the moment, and that was defense. When Professor Moody announced that they would next be conjuring items specifically concerned with defending oneself, Harry carefully focused solely on the task at hand. He was in fact focused so intently that when Moody used the stunning charm on him as an example to the class, Harry quickly ducked and conjured a gleaming red metal shield with such incredible speed that Moody hadn't even had the chance to finish saying the incantation. The red beam of the stunning spell then hit the shield and fizzled into nothing.

Everyone in the class gave an audible gasp. Even though they had all been in the D.A. meetings with Harry last year, none of them had ever seen Harry do something like that before. When Moody had turned both his real and his magical eye upon Harry, the professor looked completely surprised and also rather pensive. Harry peered at the shocked faces ranged around him. As he registered the concern evident on Moody's face, Harry looked down at what he had actually conjured. He hadn't really thought about it; it had been instinctual, almost a knee-jerk reaction. Harry then realized that he had just conjured the same kind of shield that Voldemort had when he had dueled with Dumbledore in the Ministry of Magic last June. Harry was at first shocked by what he had done, but then his expression became bleak as a grim realization hit him. _"If I'm doing the same kind of magic that Voldemort does, then what does that make me?" _Harry wondered, fretfully.

Feeling somewhat nettled and tightly-strung, Harry didn't even look at Ron and Hermione as they followed him out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom that day. If he had, Harry wouldn't have been able to miss the stricken looks of fear and worry on their faces. It was now mid-December and as Harry entered the Great Hall and sat down next to Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, most students were making plans for the upcoming Christmas holidays. Harry glanced at Ginny. She appeared to be going out of her way to be near Harry whenever possible, almost protectively hovering over him.

Harry realized that his feelings for Ginny had now grown beyond any simple childhood friendship or innocent flirtation; their feelings were much more powerful and permanent than that. But Harry felt that caring for Ginny in the way that he did meant that he might be putting her in danger, and Harry promised himself that he could never let that happen; he must protect her at all costs. Even though Ginny was again sitting very close to him now, Harry was distant, distracted, and remote. His shadowed green eyes appeared almost haunted as he pondered these things over and over again within his own mind. Suddenly their was a small fair hand right in front of Harry's face, waving as if to get his attention.

Harry blinked and looked at Ginny as she said, "Harry....Earth to Harry... Can you hear me?"

"Sorry," he muttered numbly, "were you saying something?"

Ginny let out a sigh of frustration, "Only for the last five minutes, Harry. You've been so distant over the past few weeks, it's like you're not even here with us."

"Sorry," Harry said again, sincerely this time.

"I don't want an apology, Harry, I want to know what's going on. We all do." Ginny said, glancing at Ron and Hermione across the table. They were all three looking at him now, their expressions taut and tense. As Harry glanced at each of them in turn, he realized that he wasn't really being fair to any of them. He looked at Ginny last and as he gazed into her concerned brown eyes, Harry realized that he was going to have to be honest with her, with all of them. He was going to have to tell them what was going on. "Okay," Harry whispered, finally giving in, "But not here."

Harry took Ginny's hand and quickly led her out of the dining hall, Ron and Hermione right on their heels. Harry took them all to the same exact passageway he had hidden in when Voldemort had first attacked his mind at the beginning of term, knowing that that part of the castle would be mostly abandoned at that time of the day. As the four of them sat on the cold stone floor, Harry tried to figure out how to express what was happening and what he had now decided to do about it without really frightening or upsetting them. He wasn't even completely sure that he could. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were the most important people in his life, and he knew that this was going to be difficult. As Harry continued to sit there trying to figure out what to say, Ginny took his hand in hers again and looked up into his shadowed face.

"We're worried about you, Harry, please tell us what's wrong." Ginny said, imploringly. Harry took a deep breath.

"I've told Ron and Hermione about some of this already, Ginny, but I think you have the right to know now as well." Harry proceeded to tell her about the prophecy.

"You and you-know-who are going to have to try to ... to _destroy_ one another?" Ginny gasped, her expression distressed and disbelieving. She looked over at Ron and Hermione who were now looking at Harry, their pale faces full of anxiety. After a moment, though, Ginny seemed to gather herself together again. She looked calmly back into Harry's eyes. "There's more, isn't there, Harry," she asked, just above a whisper.

Harry nodded silently. At Harry's nod, Ron and Hermione subtly leaned forward, even more attentive than they had already been. Harry hadn't originally planned to tell anyone, not even them, what he was about to say, but he now felt that he owed his friends the truth. They needed to know what they were up against. They needed to be able to make their own decisions.

"By being close to me, you may all be putting yourselves in danger," Harry said, carefully keeping his voice steady. He pulled away from Ginny and began to pace in the small confines of the hidden passage. "I know that you don't know this because I haven't told any of you, but Voldemort _did_ possess me last June." Hermione gasped suddenly, putting her hands over her mouth, and Ron and Ginny had identical looks of utter shock and apprehension on their faces. Harry turned away from them and stared at the cold gray stone wall.

"It was... it was horrible, I was sure I was dead. The problem is that ever since that night, Voldemort has been attempting to break into my mind; he's even succeeded a few times." Harry paused, he still couldn't look at them. "I've gotten a bit better at keeping him out, but you should know that Voldemort has still had access to my mind. He knows who is close to me; he knows who I care about the most. That means that it may not be safe for you to be around me anymore. It means that you'd actually all be a lot safer if you, well, if you stayed away from me entirely." Harry kept facing the wall. It was killing him to tell them these things, but he had to. He had no choice.

"All that really means, Harry, is that you need us even more than ever," said a soft voice, it was Ginny's.

"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" Harry roared, rounding on her, almost losing control. Harry clenched his hands tightly, trying to settle down; the last thing he wanted to do was to yell at Ginny. "Listen to me, I know what Voldemort's going to do, and I don't want any of you to be involved. He's coming after me to kill me, and the only way I might have a chance is if I fight the same way that he does." Harry peered at Ron and Hermione. "Remember that shield I conjured in class the other day? Voldemort conjured one just like it when he dueled with Dumbledore in June. I wasn't even thinking about what I was conjuring, it just seemed to happen automatically. It's like I'm becoming like him. It's like I'm becoming the same kind of monster that he is," Harry said plaintively before looking back at Ginny again. "That's why you may not be safe around me anymore. That's why I have to do this alone."

"Harry, no...." cried Ginny, raising her hands to her mouth in horror, too. Harry was taking another deep breath.

"If anything ever happened to any of you, it'd be all my fault! And I just couldn't take that....." Harry's voice was full of anguish and pain as he turned back to the wall, breathing hard. The strong barrier that he had kept up since Voldemort had sent that last dream three weeks before was slipping down, crumbling away against his will.

Ron and Hermione had their backs against the opposite wall. Ron's face looked completely lost and fearful as he sat there helpless; he didn't know what to say or do. Hermione was looking down leaning against Ron for support, silent tears running down her frightened face unchecked, as she shook her head, sadly. Ginny on the other hand was slowly getting to her feet. She walked over to Harry and put a small hand on his shaking shoulder.

"Harry...." Ginny whispered, turning him around once more. "Harry, listen to me. I know you've been going through hell lately, we all do, but what makes you think that we would be in danger just because we're close to you? Why would V-Voldemort come specifically after us?" Harry jerked his head up quickly to look at her; she had just said Voldemort's name.

"I've seen it in his mind! I saw Voldemort kill _all _of you. It was in images and nightmares that Voldemort's been forcing into my mind. It was just like that vision of Sirius I had last year. He'll come after you to get to me.... I know he will. I can see it in his mind," Harry said desperately, his voice catching.

"But Harry," Ginny argued, "don't you see, if you can see into his mind, that means that you'll be able to sense him. Maybe you'll have some kind of warning, maybe this is something that you can use against him..."

"IT MIGHT NOT BE ENOUGH .... I STILL MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO STOP HIM," Harry interrupted, raising his voice again. "I have to fight Voldemort, but there's no guarantee that I'll win! In fact, there's a damn good chance that I'll lose, that I'll ultimately fail..... " Harry trailed off, thinking hard. He had to make them see, he had to make them understand that he had to protect them all somehow, even if it meant that he had to separate himself from them forever.

"Harry," said a voice of forced calm, it was Ron. "There's no bloody way that we're letting you go through all of this alone. You've got to defeat Vol...." Ron swallowed, "You've got to defeat V-Voldemort and we're going to help you to do it." Though Ron was pale, he still looked solidly resolute, determined. He had said the name for the first time, too, just as Ginny had.

"Ron's right, Harry," Hermione spoke up for the first time since they had left the Great Hall. She wiped the tears from her face as she stood fiercely crossing her arms over her chest. "You're not going to do this by yourself. We've been with you in this since the beginning, and you need us now more than ever. It's time that you realize that you've got to _win _this battle, Harry. Voldemort will continue to torture and kill people if you don't. We're going to help you, Harry. We couldn't bear losing you any more than you could bear losing us. We'll just be there to make sure that somehow you can win, whatever it takes."

Hermione paused, and everyone became completely still and silent. Suddenly, apparently realizing something, she looked sharply back at Harry and asked him, "Harry, in the prophecy, what _is_ the power you have that Voldemort doesn't?"

Harry blinked, trying to think. "I'm not sure. Dumbledore just said that Voldemort didn't have any of it at all.... And that I, well, that that was the power that led me to try to save Sirius that night.... " Harry stopped, wondering. He realized that he really had no idea what Dumbledore had meant by that.

"I know what it is," Ginny said very quietly, looking up at Harry. He, Ron, and Hermione all stared at her. As Harry looked into her eyes he was amazed that she could look both very strong and terribly vulnerable at the exact same time. "It's love, Harry." Ginny said, simply. "'Love' is the power that you've got and Voldemort doesn't. You care about everyone around you, Harry. You care so much that you're willing to risk your life for them and often have. That's why you're _not_ a monster like he is and never could be. That's why you always feel so compelled to save people in trouble. Despite everything that's happened to you, Harry, you're a very good and loving person. That's your power."

"But.... but that's not going to help. That's why Siri... Sirius died in the first place....." Harry stammered, his voice full of guilt as a painfully hard lump rose suddenly in his throat.

"But that wasn't your fault, Harry... Besides... that's also why you once saved me..." Ginny whispered, looking piercingly into his face.

Harry looked at Ginny and to his horror he realized that there were tears in his eyes, but he couldn't help it. A heavy horrible weight was pressing down on him, the all-consuming responsibility of it all was just too great. He felt woefully unprepared for what he had to do, for what was expected of him. He knew he wasn't ready to deal once again with this horror, this creature of pure evil.

"Harry," Ginny said, imploringly, her voice now full of emotion as well, "Somehow, love is the power that will ultimately defeat Voldemort. He never experienced it, so he can't understand it. Voldemort doesn't know what love is. He doesn't know how it feels to really love someone, to be willing to do absolutely anything to help them, to save them. You're everything he's not, Harry. That's why you will win."

Harry stared at Ginny. He wasn't sure of what to think or believe, but he knew one thing for certain. Harry knew that no matter what he said, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were going to insist on staying with him; that they would insist on facing all of this at his side. He had told them everything, the whole truth, and as horrible as it was they still wanted to be there with him. Whatever happened, whether he lived through this or not, he knew now that at least he wasn't going to be alone. And if the time came when he did have to face Voldemort alone, he would make sure that the three of them were completely out of danger first; he would have to find a way. In the meantime, he would try to prepare himself as best he could.

A moment later, the four of them carefully slipped out from behind the tapestry, once again standing in the vacant corridor. Ginny turned to Ron and Hermione. "We'll catch up, okay," Ginny said, pointedly. They nodded. Ron's face was set as he wrapped a protective arm around Hermione's shoulders; they gave Harry one last look as they slowly wandered back up the hallway.

"Harry," Ginny said, looking deeply into his eyes, "I think I'm beginning to understand just how heavy your burdens are, and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry about your parents, about Sirius, about what Voldemort is doing to you now. I don't know where you've found the strength to keep going. It just shows me how strong a person you really are."

As Harry slowly lifted his eyes to Ginny's face, he was unsure of how to respond. Coming from someone else what she was saying might have sounded like pity, which he couldn't stand, but it didn't sound like that coming from her now. Harry felt drained and exhausted - he was still not completely sure of what Ginny seemed to be trying to tell him.

"I don't feel very strong," he admitted, slowly looking away from her.

Suddenly Ginny wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her in a warm embrace. Harry felt a strong sense of security coming from her, and as they held each other he realized that something very powerful was happening between them. Ginny somehow understood him; she understood him in a way that no one else ever had. And despite all the strain that he was under at the moment, Harry now knew what it was that he was feeling towards Ginny. He pulled back just enough so that he could look into Ginny's face again. She put a small hand up to his face and gently touched his cheek.

"I want to help you, Harry. I have to," Ginny whispered.

"Have to help me?" Harry asked, feeling confused, "Why?" Ginny eyes were shining brightly with unshed tears as she continued to look up at him.

"Can't you see? I've fallen in love with you, Harry Potter."

It was as if time itself had ground to a complete halt. Harry dared not believe what she had just said. He looked into her face and could see the powerful truth of it in her eyes. Harry had been completely honest and open with her just now; Ginny had seen all of his flaws and weaknesses and yet she loved him anyway. Even after pushing her away again and again, Ginny had still fallen in love with him, just as he had with her. Harry's heart was filling with intense emotion as he pulled her closer to him. He held her tightly for a moment then gave her a slow gentle kiss.

"I love you, too," Harry said, softly.

Harry knew that he would always remember that amazing moment. Something profoundly strong had awoken in him for the very first time. Some part of Harry realized that this would change his life forever. That night Harry knew he had experienced the most magical, powerful emotion that there was, he had experienced love. And future events, no matter how horrible they might be, could never ever take any of that away.


	11. A Weasley Family Christmas

_**Author's note: Sorry I was unable to update for a while, here's the next installment.**_

**_MinorMistake99 - I'm glad you liked Harry's fessing up scene, and the end as well - it is a romance after all. : ) Christmas is next - I hope you find it enjoyable._**

**_BeOt - I'd like to say that I appreciated your feedback, but you didn't really provide any. It's really unfortunate that your vocabulary is apparently unable to extend itself beyond four-letter words and empty negativity. In the future you may want to keep your criticism constructive so that your advice may be heeded rather than completely ignored._**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN - A WEASLEY FAMILY CHRISTMAS**

The last day before the Christmas holidays brought a sort of frenzied feeling of holiday anxiousness to the school. Everywhere Harry looked, students were happily packing in preparation to go home. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had sent Ron and Ginny both small notes asking them to invite Harry and Hermione to the Burrow over the Christmas break. Harry had been very excited upon hearing this news; he hadn't gotten to go to the Weasley home since the Quidditch World Cup two and a half years before. Harry was watching Professor Flitwick as he levitated many bright shining golden Christmas baubles to the top of one of the twelve Christmas trees that were now surrounding the Great Hall when Ginny huffily plopped down beside him. She had just come in from Herbology and her fair skin was flushed pink from the cold and also from what appeared to be temper.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, as Ginny jerked her dragon-hide gloves off and slammed them down on the table.

"Oh... it's just that idiot, Malfoy." Ginny answered angrily, as she threw her hat on top of her gloves.

"Malfoy!" Harry asked vehemently, yanking his head over to glare at the Slytherin table.

"It's all right, Harry," Ginny said, letting out a long exasperated breath, "I took care of it."

"What do you mean 'took care of it'?" Harry asked, hackles raised. "What happened?"

"Oh, Malfoy decided that he was going to be clever to me about... well about _us_, actually, but I showed him." Ginny said, proudly.

"What did you do?" Harry asked, curiously.

"Bat-Bogey Hex... again." Ginny answered, smiling rather maliciously. Ron and Hermione had just walked up behind them hand in hand as Harry and Ginny burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" asked Ron. Harry was still laughing at the hilarious image of Malfoy's face covered in furry flapping wing-like objects and couldn't answer. Ginny had used that same curse to great effect once before when she escaped from Malfoy last year in Umbridge's office. Harry knew that Crabbe and Goyle probably wouldn't know the counter-curse.

Ginny answered instead. "Oh, just a bit of fun with Malfoy. Where have you two been, anyway?" Ron and Hermione were still holding hands as Ron muttered, "Er... prefect duties," and Hermione said, "Er... studying," at the exact same time.

Harry grinned up at them slightly mischievously. Ron and Hermione both blushed furiously and looked away embarrassed. Luckily for them, they were saved from answering any more questions by Hagrid's arrival in the hall. As he came bustling up behind them in his huge moleskin overcoat he asked, "Alrigh', you lot?"

"Hey, Hagrid," Harry greeted him.

Hagrid looked at the four of them. He was carrying a large festooned Christmas wreath over his huge shoulder. Hagrid's eyes crinkled merrily as he took in Ron and Hermione standing there hand in hand, and Harry and Ginny sitting rather closely together side by side at the table.

"What are you doing for Christmas, then, Hagrid?" Hermione asked, glad of the distraction.

"Oh, I'll be stayin' here this time. Got to be nearby the Fores' ya know," he said conspiratorially, as he lumbered away happily, the wreath jingling lightly as he went.

Harry looked at Ginny's lovely profile as she watched Hagrid lumber up to the front of the Great Hall. Harry was feeling exceedingly lucky at the moment. Not only was Ginny kind, sweet, and beautiful, in Harry's estimation; she was also a very intelligent and powerful witch. Ginny's petite frame disguised just how strong and powerful she really was. Malfoy had found out the hard way, twice now, not to underestimate Ginny Weasley. Harry smiled warmly at her and said, "You are truly amazing. D'you know that?" Ginny turned to look at him, surprised. As she smiled at Harry with twinkling eyes, Hermione suddenly cleared her throat.

"That's our cue," Hermione said to Ron as she tried to pull him away. Ron was still grinning at Harry and Ginny's exchange rather dumbly when he finally got the hint.

"Oh yeah, right." Ron said, smiling. "Better get going."

Harry and Ginny were so focused on one another that they didn't even notice them leave. Even though the magnificent hall around them glimmered and glittered with holiday cheer and the enchanted ceiling sent beautiful soft cascades of dry snowflakes down over their heads, Harry found that he had become lost completely in the depths of Ginny's warm brown eyes.

The next day upon reaching King's Cross Station Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were surprised to find not Mr. or Mrs. Weasley waiting for them, but Fred and George instead.

"Hello, hello," said Fred, smiling rather sardonically.

He was leaning against a dark green boxy nondescript sedan that Harry recognized as being of official Ministry issue. Once again, just like in Harry's third year, a man in a Ministry hat and garb was in the driver's seat. As Harry stepped closer to the vehicle, however, the man leaned out the window and smiled at them.

"Wotcher, Harry," said a decidedly feminine voice.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise as he exclaimed, "Tonks!"

"Yeah, it's me," she whispered, continuing to smile up at Harry as Ginny, Ron, and Hermione came closer. Tonks was an Auror with the Ministry as well as being a member of the Order. She was also, amazingly, an animorphmagus, which meant that she could assume any form that she wanted just by thinking about it hard enough. Suddenly, though, she assumed the stiff demeanor of a Ministry official as another group of students passed by.

"Let's get going," George said, helping everyone get their trunks and owl cages into the back of the car. The trip from London to Ottery St. Catchpole was fairly uneventful except for the fact that this particular Ministry car hadn't had any enlargement charms placed on it. This meant that while Fred and George sat up front with Tonks, Crookshanks possessively nestled in the front floorboard between them; Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were all rather crushed together in the back seat, their heavy winter cloaks making it a tight fit. As Harry lifted his arm to make more room, a smiling Ginny grabbed it and wrapped it snugly around her. Ron had his arms around a very happy looking Hermione as well, so that even though it was quite a long trek by car, Harry found that he didn't mind it at all.

Upon arriving at the Burrow, Harry's heart soared. It had been a long time since he had laid eyes upon the oddly shaped ramshackle and clearly magical Weasley homestead, and he found that he had greatly missed it. Harry watched as Hedwig and Pigwidgeon winged slowly around the house, they had been following just slightly behind the car. Harry smiled brightly when he saw the garden gnomes sneaking through the snow-covered grass like a strange bushel of potatoes come to life. As they all unfolded themselves out of the car, Harry took a deep breath of the fresh, cold country air. As Fred, George, and Tonks bewitched their belongings to float out of the trunk and into the house, Mrs. Weasley suddenly apparated in front of them with a small "crack."

"Oh, I'm sorry I couldn't make it back before now, or I would have met you at the station," Mrs. Weasley said fussily, coming forward toward them all. As Tonks came back out of the house looking like her bubblegum pink-haired self again, she ran up to Mrs. Weasley. "Oh Molly, you made it back..." Tonks was saying, but then her foot caught on a spot of ice and she almost fell on top of her. Mrs. Weasley caught her almost automatically; it appeared that she had grown quite accustomed to Tonks' clumsiness now.

"Did you have any signs of trouble, dear?" she asked Tonks in a low voice.

"Oh, no. No problems at all. Unless, of course, you count the fact that Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione didn't seem all that anxious to untangle themselves from each other in the back seat once we got here," Tonks answered mischievously, her voice at regular volume.

Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were all standing side by side nearby. At Tonks' comment, though, they all blushed profusely and looked away. Apparently, however, Fred and George had already let the cat out of the bag because Mrs. Weasley didn't appear surprised, instead she seemed perfectly delighted.

"But I think it's wonderful," she said elatedly, smiling broadly at the four of them. "Goodness knows that Harry and Hermione are as good as family anyway and have been for a long time, now." Mrs. Weasley continued, putting an arm around both Harry and Hermione and steering them towards the front door of the house. "Besides, it's such a relief to see you happy again, dear," she whispered specifically to Harry.

Harry was still a bit pink in the face, but he smiled at Mrs. Weasley anyway as she released him and Hermione and entered the house. Although Harry knew that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been busy with the Order, somehow they had still managed with Fred and George's help to find time to decorate the house for Christmas. A gigantic Christmas tree stood gleaming by the hearth, filled with an eclectic assortment of handmade ornaments created, Harry later discovered, by the Weasley children as they were growing up. There were holly garlands lining the large fireplace mantle and the staircase railing and lovely glittering holly wreaths on every door in the house, similar but smaller in size to the one that Hagrid had been carrying back at school. They had also placed scented peppermint stick candles throughout the house that never melted or went out, so that no matter what room you went into, there was always some soft flickering light to see by. Another decoration that Harry had noticed appeared upon first sight to be plush little white snowmen dolls hidden among the ivy in a couple of the wreaths. Upon actually walking by the snowmen, however, one was deluged in a wad of white confetti as the snowmen cried "HAPPY CHRISTMAS!" in a obnoxiously loud voice.

The snowmen were obviously Fred and George's idea, because the first time Mrs. Weasley happened to walk by one of them, Harry thought that she might have just had a heart attack. After recovering slightly from the fright, Mrs. Weasley turned her furious face towards Fred and George, who were doubled up laughing nearby. Upon seeing her outraged face, though, they apparently saw fit to make themselves scarce and disapparated from her sight. They had then stayed gone for the rest of the evening.

On Christmas Eve, the Weasley's along with Harry and Hermione, roasted marshmallows in the huge fireplace as large amounts of snow fell outside, turning the local countryside into a vast sparkling wonderland. Christmas morning brought, along with presents, a few visitors from the Order who had come to celebrate the holiday with them. Tonks, Lupin, and Shacklebolt had all come together, but Shacklebolt, being the new Minister of Magic while also still secretly being a member of the Order of the Phoenix, didn't have as much time as the others and had to leave early. Mrs. Weasley, however, had insisted on loading him down with turkey, dressing, ginger carrots, and a large plum pudding before he could leave. She had also handed him some warm winter gloves she had carefully hand-knitted for him for Christmas. Shacklebolt had smiled appreciatively and wished everyone a Merry Christmas in his deep resonating voice as he left.

Luckily, Lupin and Tonks were able to stay the whole day. Harry had spent the day as near to Ginny as possible. Harry smiled; he thought that she was without a doubt the best gift he had ever received. She had given Harry a very soft, quilted red and gold throw blanket to go over his bed at Hogwarts. She had knitted it herself and while Harry would never say this within earshot of Hermione, it was obvious that Ginny, unlike his best friend, was a true expert at knitting and needlework. Ginny had embroidered several intricate gold lions into the thick soft red lining and the throw looked as though it had taken forever to create. When Harry thanked her and told her how beautiful he thought it was, though, Ginny just shrugged.

"Well, Mum taught me to knit when I was really young, so I've had a bit more practice than.... er, some."

Hermione had just entered the room with Ron, and Ginny trailed off, smiling rather impishly at Harry. Hermione's knitting ability or lack thereof, even with magic, had been a constant source of amusement to him and Ron. Harry, on the other hand, had carefully chosen for Ginny a very fine delicate gold bracelet, small enough for her tiny wrist.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, "It's so gorgeous, thank you. But it looks so expensive," Ginny said as she looked at Harry, a small line of worry gently creasing her forehead. The Weasley's had always been very poor, financially.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, leaning closer to her and whispering in her ear so that only she could hear him. "You deserve it, besides I wanted it to be special. I wanted to show you how much I love you."

Ginny looked away from him and didn't say anything at first, and Harry feared that he had just said something wrong. Just when he was getting ready to say something else, though, Ginny turned towards him again, her eyes sparkling affectionately in the candlelit room.

"I love it, Harry. And I love you," she whispered, hugging him tightly.

Even though Harry and Ginny had their own secluded corner to themselves for the moment, the Weasley's large living room was full of people. Ron and Hermione were sitting arm in arm by the window watching the snow fall outside. Bill had arrived midday after spending the first part of the day with his girlfriend, Harry's former Triwizard opponent, Fleur Delacour. Charlie was still working with dragons in Romania, but he had sent a basket full of goodies home for Christmas. Harry and everyone else carefully avoided the subject of Percy, the Weasley's third son, who hadn't been on speaking terms with the family for some time now. Harry wondered what Percy was up to now that his boss had essentially been sacked from the Ministry. Fred and George were having fun trying to trick more people into walking by the confetti-throwing snowmen. Mr. Weasley, Tonks, and Lupin were discussing Muggles in front of the fireplace.

"Your father's Muggle-born, isn't he, Tonks?" Mr. Weasley asked, the excited expression he always got when discussing Muggles lighting his face. "How on earth do Muggles prepare something as large as a Christmas feast?"

"Oh, well," Tonks answered, "See, my Dad's not much of a cook, but my Muggle grandmother told me once that she would spend hours and hours in front of a hot stove preparing everything. Can you imagine? I don't know, though. I guess I'm a bit like my Dad. I don't fancy cooking much, even doing it our way."

Lupin was standing next to Mr. Weasley and Tonks, but he wasn't really participating in their conversation. Harry had noticed out of the corner of his eye that Lupin had glanced over to where he and Ginny were; they were still sitting snuggled up together in an overstuffed armchair. Lupin was wearing a faint smile on his tired face, but his eyes looked wistful. Just as Harry had noticed this, Mrs. Weasley's loud voice called from the kitchen.

"I could use some help in here, please. Ron, Ginny, Harry, Hermione could you come in here for a moment, please?"

As the four of them headed towards the kitchen, Lupin discreetly followed them. "Harry... Merry Christmas," Lupin said, rather haltingly. He looked like he had wanted to say more, but had decided not to. As Lupin stepped back towards the wall again, Harry gathered silverware and plates along with Ron and began to set the table as Lupin lingered near the entrance to the dining room. Ginny and Hermione were carefully loading Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking onto her special Christmas serving platters and tureens. Harry knew that that might take a little while due to the sheer amount of food that Mrs. Weasley had prepared, so as soon as Harry had finished setting the table, he walked back over to Lupin.

"Are you okay, sir?" he asked, looking anxiously at his former professor. Lupin's hair had gotten even grayer than it had been six months ago when Harry had last seen him during the summer. The lines that were gouged into his young face seemed deeper and his eyes had dark shadows beneath them. Lupin's face was full of pain and sorrow. Harry easily recognized that particular look, as he had worn it himself not all that long ago.

Lupin seemed distracted, and Harry suggested that they go upstairs for a moment. Once in the upstairs hallway, Harry turned to Lupin again. "What is it, sir?" he asked, sensing that something was wrong.

"Oh, it's nothing really, Harry. It's great to see you again. You look a lot better than when I last saw you." Lupin said quietly, looking around a bit erratically.

"I am better, now," Harry said. It was the truth. Harry felt that he may never completely get over losing his godfather and the weight of responsibility that he was under wasn't likely to go anywhere soon, but with Ginny's love and support Harry had found a way to deal with it, at least for now.

"I'm truly glad, Harry. I was really worried about you when I saw you this summer. I see you and Ginny are... together, now," Lupin said, sounding a bit strained.

"Yeah," Harry said, with just the slightest bit of color on his cheeks. "She's the reason I'm doing as well as I am, if you want to know the truth."

"I saw you and her just now, sitting together, and I was reminded so strongly of a long time ago. For a moment I thought I was looking at your parents again." Lupin whispered.

Harry was surprised. He had in his possession many pictures of his parents, but it had never occurred to him that Ginny might actually look a bit like his own mother. Harry paused, considering that piece of information. Now that he thought about how much he looked like his father, Harry could understand why Lupin had been struck by the odd similarity.

"I never really thought about it, sir," Harry said, honestly. "Though from what I've heard about my Mum, she and Ginny would probably have a lot in common."

"I must tell you something, Harry," Lupin began, but then paused as if considering what he was about to say. Eventually he said, "You know I knew your parents quite well."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, "I know my Dad and Sirius were your best friends." Harry felt a small pang at his own mention of Sirius, but it passed fairly quickly.

"What you don't know, Harry, is that at one time I was in love with your mother." Lupin said, looking at Harry directly.

Harry stared at Lupin, completely astounded. He didn't know what to say to that; he had a sudden horrible image of his mother being in this terrible love triangle with two men and began to say something, but Lupin beat him to it.

"She never knew, Harry. Neither did James."

Harry continued to stare at Lupin. Harry had always revered him as a wonderful teacher and mentor. If it hadn't been for Lupin, Harry never would have learned how to do the Patronus Charm, which had saved his life twice, now. Harry had never seen this side of his parent's old friend, and he really wasn't sure of what to make of it. As Harry continued to stare open-mouthed at his old professor, Lupin finally spoke again.

"Siri.... Sirius was the only one who knew, Harry, until now, anyway. He swore he would never tell either of them and as far as I know, he never did. That may have been the reason why he thought I was the one, instead of Peter, that was leaking vital information about your parents to Voldemort. I really don't know. I just needed for you to know, that's all. I guess I thought that you deserved to know." Harry was still unsure of why Lupin was telling him all of this.

"James and Lily Potter, along with Sirius, of course, were the best and closest friends I had ever had, Harry. My life before meeting them was... difficult, to say the least. When I became friends when James and Sirius, I had hope in my life for the very first time. I was still a werewolf, but at least that wasn't all I was anymore." A question suddenly popped into Harry's mind.

"Sir, no one's ever told me, but did my mother know that my father was an animagus?" Harry asked.

"She did not know until after they had gotten engaged, but yes, Harry, James finally told her." Lupin answered.

"Did she know about you and Sirius as well?"

"James sat down with her one night with all of us and told Lily everything. He had asked us to come and be there because he said he didn't want there to be any secrets between them once they were married."

"How did she take it?" Harry asked, wondering.

"Oh, she was surprised, of course." Lupin paused, then said, "Unfortunately, Harry, what you never got to find out about your mother, was how kind and accepting she was of things. Even after hearing all of these strange things about people that she thought she knew and in your father's case, loved, she still accepted everything without too much difficulty. James was understandably relieved, as you can imagine."

Harry considered this. His father hadn't been completely honest with his mother until after they were engaged. Harry found himself wondering how Ginny would take vital information like that if he were to keep it secret until the last moment.

"Why did he wait, then?" Harry asked. "If he was already in love with my Mum, then why did he not tell her everything from the start?"

"James was afraid of losing her, Harry." Lupin explained. "As you may remember from what you saw in Dumbledore's pensieve that time, it took a couple of years for Lily to even go out with James. Once they finally did, it didn't take very long for the sparks to fly, but James hadn't told her about everything for a reason. We had all made a secret pact when all of this started to never tell another living soul. By the time James finally asked all of us about it, they were newly engaged. He just wanted to come clean, you might say."

"How did you fall in love with her, then?" Harry asked, slightly afraid of the answer.

"Oh, I promise you, Harry, she never knew. I certainly never told her. It happened slowly while she and your father were first dating. I was having a hard time in our seventh year and she happened to come across me one time when I, well... when I was at my worst. She was very kind and comforted me until I could make sense of things again." Lupin said, "I don't know if that makes any sense, but...."

"Sure it does," Harry interrupted suddenly, "I mean... " Harry hesitated, wondering how much he should really say about how he had felt over the past several months. Harry looked at Lupin's sad face and realized that he would understand. "I know what you're talking about when you say you were at your worst. You see I've, well... I've been there myself, actually."

Lupin looked at his former pupil appraisingly for a moment and then whispered gently, "Yes, I bet you have, Harry." After a moment, Lupin went on to say, "Look, Harry. I don't really know why I felt so compelled to tell you all of this, except to say that I guess I _needed _to tell you. I know there's a lot of holes in the information that you have about your parents and I just want to fill one, I suppose."

"Both of your parents were amazing people, Harry. Especially when one of them got past being fifteen," Lupin said, smiling, "and I guess I just wanted you to know that. The James that you saw in the pensive was not the man that he turned out to be. Lily had quite a bit to do with that, I think. Women often have a way of mellowing the men they love."

"Can you tell me more about my Dad, Professor. I've heard a bit, but you were actually there. I mean, I know you were all in the first Order and everything, but I never really got a chance to ask Sirius like I wanted to." Harry said, his curiosity overwhelming him, and then wished he hadn't. Lupin was looking especially melancholy now.

After a moment's pause, Lupin sighed, "Your dad was a very powerful wizard. He had started working as an Auror at the Ministry right after he and Lily had discovered that you were coming. I still remember the look on his face when he told us about you," Lupin said, reminiscently. "Your parents couldn't wait for you to be born, Harry. I know that they never dreamed that they wouldn't be able to be here to raise you. Your father loved you and your mother with his whole being, Harry. That's why he was willing to do what he did that night when Voldemort came after you at Godric's Hollow. He was trying to protect those he loved the most... " Lupin trailed off rather painfully. Eventually he smiled wistfully and spoke again, "I remember seeing them just a couple months after you were born. I can still see the way both of their faces lit up while they were holding you, showing you off, really. I wish they could see you now, Harry. Trust me when I say that I know they would've been extremely proud of their son."

Harry stood there quietly for a moment. Lupin had just given him more information about his parents in these few moments than he had ever been given before. Harry felt he needed time to mull it all over. When Harry didn't say anything for a while, Lupin spoke up again.

"I know that losing Sirius has been especially hard on you, Harry. I'm just glad that you're doing... well, that you seem to have made it okay through the worst of it. I know this has been a difficult time for you, Harry."

"For both of us," Harry said, quietly, looking into Lupin's eyes. Lupin looked at Harry for a moment, apparently surprised by Harry's insight. Lupin smiled then and clapped Harry on the back.

"Definitely," Lupin said shortly, letting out a sigh as he led Harry back down the stairs and into the noisy kitchen again.

----------------------------------------------------------

Christmas dinner that night was a very noisy happy affair. Everyone ate until they were completely stuffed full and then headed upstairs to bed, Mrs. Weasley insisting that for once, the dishes could wait until morning. Harry lay awake in Ron's bright orange Chudley Cannon's decorated bedroom, listening to Ron's snores and thinking about Remus Lupin. Lupin had led a very solitary and lonely life, and Harry felt bad for him. Why Lupin had never sought out anyone to be happy with, Harry didn't know, but he figured that being a werewolf would probably scare off most potential partners. Harry began to think about his mother, again, and how wonderful a person she appeared to have been. He wished that he could remember her, that he could have spent a little more time with her before she had been taken away. At least it sounded as though his parents had truly loved one another, Harry thought. And that was important, considering what they had been facing once he had been born.

Harry then wondered about his father. Lupin had said that he had been an Auror, just like Moody, Tonks, Shacklebolt, and the Longbottoms. It seemed that Harry had been following in his father's footsteps without even knowing it. Harry smiled at that. Harry had seen that his father had been rather conceited and even arrogant in his youth, but his father also sounded as though he had had a good influence in Harry's mother. Harry wished that he could talk to them, not just because he had not gotten to know them; but also because he felt that he could really use their guidance about now, especially in regard to the prophecy.

Harry found himself wondering if he and Ginny would be facing a very dark future ahead of them specifically because of that prophecy, but then he decided that at the moment he was feeling entirely too peaceful to dwell upon such a negative train of thought. Harry turned over and drifted off to sleep. About an hour later, Harry woke suddenly, not really remembering why. He thought he had just had a dream of something vaguely frightening, but he couldn't remember what it was. Harry tried to go back to sleep, but he was now feeling too restless and he decided to go downstairs for a glass of water.

As Harry quietly tiptoed down the stairs in his pajamas, he thought he heard a noise in the kitchen. Harry slowly looked around the corner, peering through the darkness. Harry could hear water running in the sink and as he reached the last stair he saw that it was Ginny. Apparently, she had had the same idea that he had. She looked very sweet standing there is her pajamas and pink terrycloth bathrobe.

"Ginny," he whispered, trying not to startle her.

Ginny jumped, but didn't cry out, though she did put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, Harry. You just about scared me to death," she whispered, trying to calm down.

"Sorry, I just didn't want you to scream and wake up the others," Harry said.

"Are you okay, Harry? What are you doing up?" Ginny asked, her face slightly anxious.

"I just had the same idea you did, I guess. I wanted a glass of water." Harry shrugged. "What are you doing up, anyway?" Harry asked with a grin, jokingly turning the tables on her as he entered the kitchen. Harry stopped teasing, though, when she continued to seem jumpy and upset. Now that he was nearer to her, he could see how pale she was. "I'm sorry, Ginny. What happened, did you have a nightmare or something?"

Ginny looked at him surprised, the frightened look was slowing ebbing from her face, now. "How did you know?"

"I didn't. I just thought..." Harry thought about what Lupin had told him earlier and decided to be honest with her. "Look, I have them pretty often, okay. You just seemed a little shaky, and I thought that might be what it was."

"Yeah, I did." Ginny finally answered. "Did you?"

"Yeah, but nothing too terrible. I can't remember what it was or anything. I was just feeling restless." Harry looked at her. She still seemed a bit pale. "Are you okay, now?"

"Yeah, I feel fine now. It was just a pretty bad one this time." Ginny said, looking at the floor.

"Do you have them a lot?"

"Sometimes. Look, I really don't want to bother you with this, Harry." Ginny remained secretive.

"Ginny," Harry said, as he came closer to her. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I wish you would. If anyone understands about bad dreams, it's me."

After a small pause, Ginny decided to speak up. "Well," Ginny said, leaning towards him slightly, "You remember the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Kind of hard to forget it," Harry said, a small grimace on his face.

"Well, sometimes I still have these dreams that I'm in there, that Riddle's got control of me again." Ginny paused, "It's stupid, I know...."

"No, it's not." Harry interrupted. "I know how horrible they can be, trust me."

"Oh, Harry, I shouldn't have brought this up. It'll just remind you of... before," Ginny said anxiously, looking ashamed.

"Ginny, listen to me. I've pretty much got a handle on stopping... well, on stopping the ones that Voldemort's trying to force on me anyway. It's just the regular ones, now. I just want you to be able to tell me anything. I want to be there for you, like you've been there for me." Harry said, reaching for her hand.

"What do you mean by 'regular ones,' Harry? Are you still having nightmares even with Occlumency?" Ginny asked. Harry decided that it might calm her down if he tried to make some of his bad dreams sound more innocuous.

"Well, I still have some about what has happened to me in the past, sometimes they're like yours are - about Riddle or the Basilisk. Sometimes they're about dementors or," Harry decided not to go to the graveyard with this, "or sometimes it's about some of the other things that I've seen. Those I've pretty much learned to deal with. I try to remember that they're not real, that they're just a jumble of past memories, really. I try to remember that they can't really hurt me. Just try to remember that they can't hurt you, either. Mind you it's easier said then done, I know, but you can do it."

Ginny was quiet for a moment; she seemed to be considering something important. Harry waited patiently, hoping that she would really open up to him. Eventually, she seemed to make up her mind. She looked up at Harry, trembling slightly in the chill night air.

"Do you remember when that dementor came aboard the Hogwarts Express that time?" Ginny asked. Harry most definitely did. Harry couldn't help feeling slightly embarrassed now; he had passed out right in front of her that night. Harry tried not to cringe and hoped that the darkness around them would hide the flush that was now crawling slowly up his face.

"Er, yeah," Harry said, trying to sound normal.

"As soon as the dementor entered our compartment, I started to remember when Riddle possessed me during my first year, Harry. It was so terrible, running around and doing all those horrible things, without having any control at all over what I was doing. He could have made me kill someone, Harry. I certainly made it easier for that basilisk to try to kill people. It was all my fault, Harry, I was just too... too weak." Ginny looked away from Harry, now. There were tears running down her face.

Harry remembered the way he had felt when Cho had come to him with tears in her eyes, and somehow this felt completely different. Cho had seemed to be crying all the time; almost every time that she and Harry had been together, in fact. But Ginny was another story. Harry knew that Ginny was strong, that she didn't often break down like she was now. Harry pulled her to him and let her cry into his shoulder. After a moment, the tears stopped and she seemed to come back to herself again. When she began to apologize, Harry stopped her.

"Don't you dare be sorry, Ginny. You are not weak at all; you're one of the strongest people I know." Harry said, trying to comfort her. "Sometimes, the problem is just, I dunno, bigger than you are. It doesn't mean that you're weak, it just means that you're human. We both are."

"I'm so glad that you're here with me right now, Harry. I think you're the only one in the whole world who really understands me," Ginny whispered, sniffing slightly.

"I feel exactly the same way about you, Ginny," Harry said, brushing her soft red hair out of her eyes and wiping her tears gently from her pale face.

Harry stood there holding Ginny for a long time before going back to bed. As Harry lay back down again, he found that his thoughts were completely focused on Ginny. Harry hoped that no matter what the future held for each of them, they could be together. With Ginny at his side, Harry felt that he could face almost anything, maybe even what scared him the most - his destiny.

------------------------------------------------------

The next day, Harry was awakened by an extremely bright beam of sunlight that was shining through the frozen windowpane of Ron's bedroom, hitting him directly in the face. It was now mid-morning and Ron had already gone downstairs. Harry rushed into a fresh sweatshirt and jeans and then ran back downstairs to check on Ginny; he wanted to make sure she was okay after her nightmare last night. Harry's mind was focused on Ginny entirely, and he wasn't really looking where he was going. Suddenly, Harry collided abruptly into two people who were standing there together, apparently kissing in the middle of the staircase. All three of them yelled "OW!!" - their arms and legs went everywhere as they all slid in a tangled mass down the last few rough wooden steps of the staircase to stop with a resounding thud on the landing below.

"Bloody Hell, Harry! What'd you do that for?" Ron exclaimed angrily, trying to get out from under Harry and Hermione's weight.

"Well, I didn't really expect anyone to be right there," Harry answered with an annoyed scowl as he tried to sit up, rubbing his now bruised left shoulder.

Hermione sat up and groaned slightly, rubbing the back of her head as she gingerly pulled herself off of Harry and Ron's legs. Harry heard several pairs of footsteps approaching and looked up to see Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Fred, and George all coming to the foot of the stairs to look down at the three of them.

Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were looking anxious as Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, "What happened? Are you all right?"

"What did you do, fall down the stairs?" Ginny then asked, leaning closer.

Fred and George, however, were taking in Harry, Ron, and Hermione and the jumbled and awkward positions that they were all in on the landing. About a second later they were both rolling on the floor, roaring with laughter. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all three shot them a nasty look as they continued to try to untangle themselves and stand up again. After a moment, though, Ginny begin to giggle and Mrs. Weasley's face began twitching with suppressed mirth. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione finally succeeded in getting to their feet again, they looked at the other four and then at each other, beginning to grin now, as well. Soon all of them were laughing as loudly as Fred and George were.

Ron and Hermione looked a bit sheepish as Mrs. Weasley asked, "Just what were you two doing standing there on the stairs, anyway?"

As Harry walked over to stand next to Ginny, he looked over at his two best friends again. Harry was still rubbing his sore shoulder. "Er... Sorry, guys, didn't mean to interrupt," he said, grinning widely.

Ron and Hermione were now turning matching colors of scarlet as they looked anywhere but at each other. Fred and George were looking as though they were about to hatch another attempt to humiliate them further when Mrs. Weasley judiciously stepped in.

"That's enough, now. Let's get to breakfast before it gets cold," she said, and then gathered everyone in front of her like a mother hen and pushed them all towards the kitchen.

"Where's Dad?" Ron asked as they reached the kitchen doorway. He was quite anxious to get the spotlight off of himself and Hermione.

"Oh, they called your father in early this morning," Mrs. Weasley said, attempting to sound nonchalant. Her face had suddenly assumed a tightly closed expression. Harry and Ginny glanced at each other and then at Ron and Hermione suspiciously. Ron was still looking embarrassed and was finding himself and Hermione a seat together at the table, but Hermione had apparently noticed Mrs. Weasley's odd expression just as Harry and Ginny had.

"Is everything okay at the Ministry, Mrs. Weasley?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, of course, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, not quite meeting Hermione's eye. Hermione looked unconvinced, but Mrs. Weasley had already turned to the stove and reached for a large skillet full of scrambled eggs. When Hermione opened her mouth to say something else, Mrs. Weasley suddenly asked, "Who wants toast, now?" Apparently, Hermione decided to drop the subject, but she continued to send anxious glances across the table at Harry and Ginny as they all ate their breakfast. After breakfast, Hermione whispered something to Ron and they both beckoned to Harry and Ginny as they left the room.

"Do you think that something is going on at the Ministry?" Hermione asked, nervously pacing back and forth. "Mrs. Weasley didn't seem too forthcoming."

"I don't know," Ginny answered, "They never seem to want to tell us anything, anymore."

"Like they ever did," Ron said, looking irritated.

"Do you think it's because I'm here?" Harry asked with a frown, feeling a bit paranoid. Harry knew that many people had believed the rubbish that the _Daily Prophet_ had printed about him last year and thought him a bit mad, after all. Even Mrs. Weasley had seemed to specifically avoid his gaze all through breakfast as she spoke in carefully light tones. Hermione was still pacing. She shook her head, however, as she said, "Oh, Harry, it's not just you. They never tell anything to any of us." Just as Hermione had said this, Fred and George came into the room, their expressions strangely secretive.

"Something big is going down this morning," George whispered excitedly, keeping a cautious eye out for his mother.

"What?" Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione asked loudly all at once.

"Shhhh..." Fred shushed them all, "We don't need Mum to hear, now do we?" He said as he moved them all toward the opposite side of the living room.

"We got out the extendables early this morning when we heard Mum and Dad talking downstairs," George explained.

"Yeah," Fred went on, "Apparently there's been some new Death Eater activity in a few of the Muggle communities over the holiday. There are all these strange reports on the Muggle news about darkly robed figures moving through neighborhoods starting fires and scaring everyone. One family reported that some of their relatives went missing in one of the neighborhoods where the Death Eaters were sighted. The Muggle Prime Minister is asking Shacklebolt for assistance from the Ministry."

Harry looked at Ginny, Ron, and Hermione's anxious expressions. Hermione in particular looked especially pale. Her parents, of course, were Muggles themselves, and she had chosen to accept the Weasley's invitation for Christmas rather than spend the holiday with them. Harry's stomach clenched painfully as he remembered the nightmare he'd had just a few months before involving Ron and Hermione. Harry hoped against hope that Voldemort's interest in his best friends wouldn't ever extend to their families, as well. Guiltily, Hermione turned her worried eyes upon Ron and asked to borrow Pigwidgeon so that she could check on them. Ron ran upstairs and snatched the small gray overexcited fluff-ball that was his owl and brought him downstairs to her. Ron then held him as Hermione shakily attached a short note to his small feathered leg. As Pigwidgeon took off haphazardly, Hermione fell into Ron's arms.

"What if something has happened to them and I wasn't even there?" she asked, tears welling up in her eyes. Ron tightened his arms around her comfortingly as Ginny placed a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"I'm sure it wasn't them, Hermione. It probably wasn't anywhere near them," Ginny said, trying to comfort her friend.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Fred said, confidently. "I'm sure Dad and Shacklebolt will get control of it and sort it all out."

"Yeah, Ginny's right. There's no reason to worry, I'm sure they're fine," George added, but he was wearing an uncharacteristically grave expression on his face.

Harry and Ron exchanged a grim look. It had really begun now. The second war that Harry had been expecting all last year was now actually coming to fruition. As Harry glanced at Hermione's terrified face once more, he felt strangely helpless. Everyone remained standing, they all felt too edgy to sit down. They were all waiting now for Pigwidgeon to return with news. Instead, however, a large gray and very befuddled-looking owl flew out of the fireplace. It was Errol, the Weasley's family owl, and he was carrying a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ is his beak.

As Errol landed rather pitifully on the Weasley's living room floor, Harry reached down and unwrapped the parcel quickly, before Mrs. Weasley could walk in and see what was going on. Harry scanned the front page carefully, keeping his face as neutral as possible.

_**MUGGLES SHOCKED BY SIGHTING OF HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED**_

_Today in London, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers were seen by many wizard and Muggle eyewitnesses as the criminals worked their way through several Muggle communities, causing damage and mayhem as they went. One Muggle family was severely injured in an explosion caused by a Death Eater's spell as they were fleeing their burning home. The family was rushed to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries to receive healing and memory-modification. They are all expected to make a full recovery. In a related side note, one Death Eater was allegedly reported to be the notorious escaped prisoner, Bellatrix Lestrange. Lestrange was said to be shrieking insanely as she ran through the streets in another village near Surrey this same morning. "This horrible woman was cackling and screaming madly as she ran through the streets setting fire to the local shops and cottages nearby," reported a local wizard eyewitness. "She seemed almost feverish - she ranted on and on at the top of her voice about 'The Boy Who Lived,'" he went on. "She was yelling something like, 'He will die! I shall kill him for my master! Harry Potter will die!' Obviously, she was barking mad, and by the time the Aurors showed up, she was gone. She must have disapparated." Unfortunately, Lestrange was able to escape the scene and has been apparently hiding out of sight since. If anyone has any information about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Lestrange, or any other Death Eaters, please contact the Department of Magical Law Enforcement immediately._

Luckily, Harry had the presence of mind to hide the paper before anyone else could see it, saying as casually as he could, "Oh, don't worry, Hermione, there's nothing in there about your parents. I'm sure they're okay."

Now Harry knew why Mrs. Weasley wouldn't look at him at breakfast, she must have already known about what Bellatrix Lestrange had been up to. This also explained why Mr. Weasley had had to go into work early. Thankfully, before Ginny could ask Harry for the _Prophet_, Pigwidgeon came hurdling in through the chimney, his tiny gray feathers slightly soot-covered as he landed in Ron's waiting hand. Hermione's nervous fingers rapidly unwrapped the small return note.

"They're fine," Hermione gasped weakly, her voice full of relief as she leaned against Ron once more. "They said they saw something on the news, but that the sightings weren't in our neighborhood or anything."

Ginny went over to hug Hermione once more as Mrs. Weasley came bustling in. Since her arms were full of clean laundry, Mrs. Weasley didn't notice the incredible amount of tension in the room as she advised everyone to go upstairs and get packed for their return journey to school. Harry took advantage of everyone's momentary inattention and hid the paper in-between the cushions of the overstuffed armchair he and Ginny had snuggled up in on Christmas day. Because everyone was still focused on Hermione, the paper was not mentioned again until they were dragging their school trunks and owl cages back downstairs.

"Harry, where's that copy of the _Daily Prophet_ you had earlier?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, I dunno, must be around here somewhere," Harry said, not looking at her. "The important thing is that Hermione's parents are all right."

"Yes," said Ginny, sincerely, "I'm so glad, it must be such a relief to her. I wouldn't even want to think about something like that happening to my family, especially if I wasn't even there to help stop it."

Harry kept his expression carefully guarded as they loaded their trunks into the back of the same Ministry car, Tonks once again on driving duty. As Ginny snuggled up against Harry again in the back seat, he felt slightly guilty about keeping things from her. Harry knew, though, that it would only upset her, and that was the last thing that he wanted. Harry realized that eventually she would discover the contents of the article, but he wanted to prevent that worry for as long as possible. Everyone was already anxious enough about current events, without adding a Death Eater's insane ravings about him to the mix.

In the meantime, Harry couldn't wait to get back to school. He wanted to discuss all of this with Dumbledore; Harry knew beyond a shadow of doubt that the dreaded second war was now upon them. Voldemort and Death Eater sightings were likely to start becoming more commonplace now, andHarry knew it was ultimately up to him to do something about it. As Harry contemplated the darkening sky outside, he knew that it was time to begin preparing himself for that final confrontation. Harry knew he was going back to school now to learn what he knew would be the most important lesson of his life, how to destroy Lord Voldemort.


End file.
